Pinot Noir
by Sophie Masse
Summary: Rated M: A series of episodes detailing Commander Kathryn Shepard and the Illusive Man's unexpected attraction. Adult content. AU, especially once we get toward the end of ME2. Work in progress.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Bioware owns all. Adult content; explicit sexual themes.  
**

"You have unread messages at your private terminal," Kelly told the commander as Shepard was heading toward the elevator.

"Thanks, Ms. Chambers; I'll see to it." Shepard rolled her eyes as the elevator door closed. What she wanted was some peace and quiet. She didn't need some hovering Cerberus lackey telling her that her Inbox was full.

The first thing that Shepard felt when she entered her quarters was that she was not alone. It was a sense honed from years of battle where alertness and situational awareness could mean the difference between life and death. On pure instinct, she pulled the pistol from her holster and stepped carefully around the corner.

The Illusive Man was sitting casually on the edge of her bed.

"You know, sneaking into the cabin of an armed woman who also happens to be an excellent shot is generally not an intelligent move." she told the Illusive Man with unconcealed venom.

"You don't need that, Shepard," he assured her, referring to the pistol. "I thought that we should finally meet in face to face." He looked at her from head to toe and then back up. "You're even lovelier than your hologram, if I may say so."

Shepard narrowed her eyes.

"Somehow, I doubt that you came up here just to shoot the breeze. So let's get right to it. What do you want?" She figured that he was there to share intel for some highly classified Cerberus operation that he wanted her to investigate, or to admonish her about some perceived infraction on her part. Maybe he wanted to share information about an upgrade for the Normandy or to brief her on some new cutting edge technology that might help her against the Collectors.

TIM chuckled and put up his hands. With debonair grace, he sauntered over to the couch and sat down. "Come sit with me, Shepard, and let's have a chat. Bring the pistol if it makes you feel better. Would you like a drink? There's a bottle of Pinot Noir on your bedside table and a glass. It's your favorite wine. I only drink scotch myself but I might make an exception tonight—" again, he ran his eyes from her face all the way down the rest of her body—"if you're willing to share the glass."

"My morbid curiosity is the only thing motivating my indulgence and stopping me from kicking your ass," Shepard informed him as she sat across from him on the leather sofa. "Why do you keep looking at me like-" Shepard paused. "Are you _flirting_ with me?"

"If you have to ask, Shepard, then I will have to do a better job. I've always thought that honesty is the best policy. I won't insult your intelligence my making up a pretense." He leaned forward toward her. "I came up here to see you—at great risk on my part mind you—because I would very much like to fuck you."

"You'd like to—," Shepard parroted, trailing off. It took her a moment to assemble the words in her head so that they registered any kind of concrete meaning. This was singularly the most bizarre experience of her 32 years.

TIM almost smiled. "You are a beautiful and exceptional woman, Shepard. I have an affinity for beautiful and exceptional things. I recognize and value what you are. This makes you incredibly desirable to me."

"I'm not an object," she said coldly.

"I know that. And I certainly do not wish to make you feel that way."

"I see that subtlety is not exactly your strong point."

"Unfortunately, I don't have a great deal of time for subtlety. Forgive me if my offer offends you. I thought that you might appreciate a direct approach. I would never dream of taking advantage of you, Shepard. That's not how I want you. That is not-nor ever has been-my intention. I'm merely trying to ease your apprehension."

"I don't even like you so why do you think for one moment I'd even consider getting into bed with you? I've never liked Cerberus or what you stand for. I-"

The Illusive Man interrupted her. "You're talking business. This isn't about business. This is about a man and a woman who have chemistry. You want to bury it. I want to act on it."

"Chemistry? Sorry to break it to your overweening ego but I don't find you attractive and I don't want to have sex with you."

The Illusive Man was unfazed. He gave her a long, appraising look. "One night only, Shepard. Would you believe me if I told you that you won't regret it? It's true." He smirked. "You won't regret it. And I'm not being arrogant. I will make you feel incredible. Don't you think you deserve a little mindless pleasure? You've worked so hard. Done everything right. Defeated Saren, saved the council, saved countless lives. What thanks do you ever get? Aren't you tired of always making all of the decisions, carrying all of the weight on your shoulders? Wouldn't a few hours of oblivion be a welcome change? All you have to do is give in to the experience. Take the plunge. Test the waters."

"Have you lost our mind?" Shepard asked with an incredulous toss of her head.

"Are you so certain that you don't find me attractive? I know that you don't agree with my methods or my morals. For the record, I don't always see eye to eye with your ideologies either-and yet I still respect you and find you to be a very attractive woman. I could be wrong, of course, but I think there is a mutual attraction between us. Unconscious on your part. But it's there. I'm just-helping to bring it to the surface. It's been a long time, hasn't it, Shepard? Why deprive yourself of something that—I assure you—will feel very, very good?"

"You came all the way up here to ask me to go to bed with you-and you actually thought that I would consider the idea?," she asked him with disbelief.

"We can continue to discuss it further. Of course, you_ could_ allow me to convince you in other ways," he said suggestively.

"What you can do is get the hell out of-"

The Illusive Man closed the distance between them. In one fluid motion, he took the pistol from her hand and placed it on the end table beside her, still within her reach. He knew full well that if she wanted to stop him, she could do it in an instant. He took her face between his hands and kissed her long and full on the mouth. The touch of his lips sent a potent current through her entire body, dissolving her desire to protest. His kiss was hot and demanding. When he could tell that she did not want to resist him, he forced her lips to part and eased his tongue inside her mouth, teasing and tasting her. His hands roamed freely over her body, gliding around her waist. He pressed his body against hers and maneuvered his knee in such a way as to part her legs. He then pressed his groin against hers while he kissed her, wanting her to feel how hard he was. His deft hands moved to open her jacket and to undo the first few buttons of her blouse. He slid his hands under her shirt and let her feel the flat of his palms against her bare abdomen. His touch was incredibly warm. He brought his hands upward to her breasts and cupped them over the silky fabric of her bra, squeezing and rubbing.

Shepard couldn't believe that she was being felt up and dry humped on a leather sofa in her quarters by her "boss." This was one hundred degrees of naughty and she couldn't deny that she liked it. The bastard was right. It did feel good. It felt very, very good.

"I don't like you," she managed, her voice a throaty whisper.

"You don't have to."

The Illusive Man took off her jacket and pulled the middle of her blouse apart, causing the remaining buttons to pop off. He threw the garments aside and proceeded to make quick work of her bra, sliding his hands under her to touch her back to find the clasp to take it off. When she was naked to the waist, he straddled her on the sofa. Leaning over her body, he pinned her wrists behind her head. Pressing his hands into her wrists with enough force to still her but not hurt her, he took a long moment to look her over with appreciation and lust. He looked at her face and her neck. His eyes roamed over her breasts and he watched her nipples form two peaks now that they were freed from her clothing. He looked down at her stomach and raked his eyes lower. He then looked back into her eyes. It was clear that he was claiming her. And if she had any doubts, he confirmed it by whispering in her ear, "Mine. Tonight. To do with as I please." He kissed her neck, puckering his lips and sucking on the place where it curved. He licked upwards to her earlobe which he took into his mouth, nibbling a moist path down to her collarbone, causing her to gasp and shudder.

Releasing her wrists, he told her, "Be a good girl and keep them above your head." He proceeded to completely undress her. He removed her boots and socks, her pants, and then her soaked panties—which he tugged down nice and slowly. While she lay completely naked and exposed on the sofa, TIM shed his clothing. He had a hard, lean body and he seemed to enjoy showing it off with his usual casual arrogance. His cock was long, thick, and very hard. TIM tugged Shepard's wrists and eased her upward into a sitting position. He led her to the bed and pushed her down underneath him, spreading her legs and kneeling in between them.

He slid his hands up and down her thighs, getting closer and closer to her sex every time but not quite touching her there. She let out a plaintive moan and rotated her hips. TIM chuckled.

"For someone who didn't want what I'm offering, you're awfully wet," he scolded. His voice was as smooth as silk. "But I won't gloat….much."

"You are such a cocky bastard," she answered, each word punctuated by the heaviness of her breathing.

"And you are an exceptionally beautiful woman."

He slid his hand in between her legs and brushed his thumb over her clit. She moaned and tipped her head back, arching her hips against his hand. He slid two fingers inside her and then curled them, pushing them in and out. The sounds that she emitted were passionate and primal, intermingled with the quick pace of her breathing. Her responsiveness inflamed him with the urgent need to possess her.

TIM replaced his fingers with the head of his cock. He rubbed it against her clit and until she frantically wiggled her hips against him, trying to coax him inside. As much as he was enjoying the preliminary, he knew he had to have her right then and there and he wouldn't wait another second. With a low growl, he pushed inside her with one deep thrust. She cried out when he entered her and he responded with a satisfied grunt. He set a quick pace, pushing into her with deep strokes. He felt her squeezing him with her inner muscles and it only incited him to pump harder. With her strong, supple body, she matched his movements stroke for stroke. Shepard wrapped her legs around him and squeezed, arching her back and making a breathy high pitched sound that was part whimper and part scream. Her body shattered underneath him, the tremors making her hips buck against him. TIM came inside her with a guttural moan, long and hot and hard, hips pumping furiously until he was completely spent. They were both panting. Eventually, their movements slowly dissipated to stillness and they lay together, still joined, for several moments. Finally, TIM rolled off of her with a reluctant sigh and lay next to her, sliding an arm lightly around her waist. Neither spoke.

"What the hell was that?," Shepard asked, looking up at the ceiling. She wasn't really asking him. She was asking herself. TIM didn't answer her. He got out of bed and retrieved his suit jacket. He pulled a lighter and a cigarette from the pocket and lit up. Pulling a bottle opener from Shepard's desk drawer, he opened the bottle of wine and poured some into the glass. Cigarette in one hand and drink in the other, he walked back over to the bed, still completely naked and unabashedly nonchalant. He handed her the glass of Pinot Noir and planted a kiss on her cheek. The gesture was almost affectionate.

"That," he said, answering her question, "was the beginning of something exquisite."


	2. Chapter 2

**Bioware owns all. Thanks for reading. Still a work in progress; more to come.**

Commander Kathryn Shepard sat curled up asleep on the leather sofa in her quarters with her data pad in her lap. Her head rested at an awkward angle on the arm of the couch. She wore a tasteful, classic, and simple black skirt and white blouse with one modest button undone at the top. Her black heels had been discarded. One shoe was half under the sofa with its heel sticking out. The other one had slid under the end table when she had kicked them off. The commander hadn't worn a skirt in years. The last occasion was probably a few years ago for one of those boring, mandatory commendation ceremonies that she hated to attend. But ever since she had slept with the Illusive Man one week ago, skirts were now a regular part of her wardrobe after they had suddenly started showing up in her Cerberus owned closet. The Illusive Man did enjoy his little games.

It was late. Shepard had intended to change and go to bed but there was just one more schematic that she wanted to review. An hour later, she had drifted off into a dreamless sleep on the sofa. She woke up two hours after that to the spicy-sweet scent of cigarette smoke and the sight of TIM doing what he did best at the other end of her couch: smoking one of his expensive cigarettes and sipping leisurely on a glass of scotch.

Shepard gave him an accusatory look. "I know you have an extensive vocabulary but somehow the word 'privacy' doesn't appear to be a part of it," she snapped irritably.

"Ah, Shepard," he cooed sweetly, "given our performance from last week, I had rather hoped you might be glad to see me."

"Don't flatter yourself," she countered, standing up to stretch. Inadvertently, she pushed one shoe completely under the sofa. She bent down on her hands and knees to retrieve it, feeling around until her fingers grasped the heel.

"You'd better not me staring at my ass," she told TIM as she stood up and turned around to face him. He was standing directly in front of her when she turned.

"Of course not, Kathryn. I was too busy thinking about how delicious you'd look wearing those shoes and nothing else. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her flush against his body. "But if you want to bend over again, I'd be only too happy to look." He moved his hands down to the part of her anatomy that they were discussing and squeezed.

"Are we on a first name basis?," she asked, not missing a beat. Giving him a firm push, she disentangled herself from his embrace. "You have me at a decided disadvantage. You know my first name but I don't know yours."

"Any special reason you need to know? Feeling the urge to murmur my name in the throes of passion?"

Shepard snorted. "That was a one time deal," she said, backing away from him. "And you didn't answer my question."

He took a step toward her. "My name is incidental. I do so enjoy these little cat and mouse games we play, Kathryn. Still not willing to admit that what you really want is to be caught?"

"All right then. Yes, I'm sexually attracted to you. Yes, I enjoyed our time together. But that doesn't mean that we can continue this. This—this is crazy. There are hundreds of reasons why this is completely and utterly wrong."

"You underestimate yourself. You are a smart, beautiful, independent and strong willed woman who, I have no doubt, can keep what we do in the bedroom separate from our professional relationship. We both agree this isn't about love. It's about sex. Mind blowingly good sex," he reminded her pointedly. "I didn't intend to visit you again. I thought that if I had you once—and got it out of my system that I'd be satisfied—but I find myself in the unfortunate position of wanting you all over again. So here I am. I assure you that when the morning comes, we can go back to arguing over your idealistic altruism and my calculated at-whatever-the-cost mentality. I respect you too much to think that a few multiple orgasms will change who you are. But let's agree that we still want each other. And we both know the best way to remedy that."

Shepard shook her head at him. "You're an articulate man; I'll give you that. You know how to make a convincing argument. But we have a very important mission on the table. You're the head of a terrorist organization that I abhor. But aside from that, even you have to agree that stopping the Collectors and defeating the Reapers is far more important than screwing one another's brains out! You're awfully cavalier for someone who understands the seriousness of the situation that we're in."

"I agree that the mission is priority. You agree that the mission is priority. We are not emotionally attached to one another. Nothing like a little euphoria to clear your head and get the blood pumping. I'd rather know that your sexual needs are being met than worrying about you being frustrated and unsatisfied, Shepard. Your well-being is extremely important to me."

"You are so completely full of shit. You do realize that pretending that you're here for my well being is laughable?"

"Maybe. But I'll say whatever I have to if it means getting you into that bed."

"Now we're getting somewhere. At least you admit it."

"It's as laughable, I suppose, as you being so reluctant to admit that what really bothers you—aside from the murky morals of sleeping with someone you don't care for—a new experience for you, I know. What really keeps you up at night though, Kathryn, is that you can't reconcile yourself to the fact that you like to relinquish a little control in the bedroom, that you like being led, that it turns you on-"

"I don't—"

"Come here," he commanded. His gaze was intensely focused on her eyes.

She didn't move.

"Rest assured," TIM told her, "I know that your leniency doesn't extend outside of the bedroom. I have no doubt that you're still going to fight me tooth and nail when we're back to business and you feel that I'm compromising your morals with something that I want you to do. That won't change. We'll still fight. You'll still think that I'm a cruel, selfish, arrogant son-of-a-bitch. It's probably true. And you'll still be a force to be reckoned with. That is empirically true. But in here, you can let go, Shepard. Give into instinct, need, and desire. This is neutral territory. You can have it all."

"You sound like you're negotiating a treaty."

"I'll negotiate anything you want if you'll stop being so stubborn and _come here_." They were only an arm's length apart. She was close enough that he could feel her heat. All it would take were two steps and they would be nearly touching.

"I promise I'll make it worth your while," he coaxed warmly.

_Damn him. She wanted to. Don't do it. Don't do it. She chanted it in her head like a mantra. _

Her feet made two even steps and she stood in front of him. They were practically nose to nose. She expected him to grab her and kiss her; she expected aggressive, need-filled contact. But he surprised her.

He didn't touch her right away. She felt a rush of disappointment. The self-admission that she had wanted him to touch her so badly startled her. She hated him for being right about what she needed and wanted. He didn't know her. Who did he think he was? She was about to tell him to go to hell when he slid his arms around her waist and turned her around.

"You shouldn't sleep like that. You're going to have a massive knot in that graceful neck." He brought his hands to her shoulders and kneaded them through the thin fabric of her blouse. He used his fingertips and then his whole hand, alternating the movements. He rubbed and stroked, pressing into the spots where he felt the most tension. His thumb hit a particularly sensitive spot and she gave a little gasp. He followed it up with a gentle caress, dragging his entire hand across the taut juncture of her neck and shoulder.

"Mmmmm, that feels good," she sighed.

"Consider it a temporary truce," he said, bringing his mouth toward her ear. His breath was warm on her neck and his lips barely grazed her skin when he spoke. "Don't expect me to be so conciliatory the rest of the evening."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Bioware owns all. MA for explicit sexual content and language. Thank you for reading.**

Shepard turned around to face him. "I can handle anything you throw at me," she promised. She brought her mouth to his and kissed him, sliding her hands up his chest to rest at his shoulders. TIM kissed her back with a leisurely slowness. She gave a gentle nip to his bottom lip and he responded by sliding his tongue in between her lips and languidly probing the moist softness of her mouth. He kissed her the way he would enjoy a fine wine, savoring the sweet thrill of its flavors in between each sip. He seemed to know instinctively just how much to demand of her and when to slow down.

It was Shepard who was the first to tug at clothing this time, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt without breaking the momentum of their kissing. He gave an appreciative groan when her bare hands glided along the contours of his naked back. His shirt promptly wound up on the floor along with her blouse, bra, skirt, and panties.

"How do you always manage to get me naked first?," she asked him in between kisses.

"Multitasking and strategic planning," he answered smugly, his reply muffled by the press of her mouth against his. TIM broke the kiss and went over to the sofa to retrieve something from the pocket of his jacket. Returning to Shepard, he took one of her hands in his and guided her over to the bed. Gently, he pushed her into a sitting position and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. His other hand shook out the item that he had retrieved, a long white silk scarf. It smelled like him: a lavendar and amber soapy smell but mingled with the spicy musk of his cologne.

"Close your eyes," he ordered, and brought the folded scarf up toward her face.

Shepard put a hand up to stop him. "I don't think so."

"You have to trust me, Kathryn," he told her, planting a row of soft kisses along her neck. He rubbed and squeezed her hand reassuringly. His voice was warm and seductive.

Shepard laughed. "You're big on charm but I'm not buying."

He traced her lips with his finger. "Well, Kathryn, I'm big on a lot of things," he gloated with a meaningful look, "You will like what I have planned, I promise."

She gave his finger a playful bite and closed her eyes. "This better not end up on the extranet or I will hunt you and make you suffer for the rest of your days."

"Don't worry; I only have one copy of the vid planned and that one is just for my private collection." He covered her eyes with the scarf and tied it in the back.

"You're amusing," she told him with a dry smile, "No, not really. Do I at least get a safe word?," she teased, as he guided her to lie flat on her back, carefully placing her hands above her head.

He kissed her between her breasts and then stroked her cheek. "Peeking is strictly prohibited, Commander," he warned her in a voice that was both mesmerizing and authoritative.

Shepard lay perfectly still. With her eyes covered, her other senses were more acute. She could hear TIM moving around, moving things, the soft clang of something hard being placed on her desk and then scraping as the object was moved. The sounds continued for a few minutes, interspersed occasionally with TIM's footsteps or the rustle of his pants as he moved. Then the noises slowly ebbed and all was quiet.

Shepard waited. She was about to say something when she felt weight on the bed followed by the feel and the scent of him. He wasn't touching her but she could tell he was sitting next to her. She felt heady with anticipation; a flurry of butterflies cascaded through her keenly sensitive body. Something soft touched her forehead, a silky whisper of a touch. A sweet odor joined with TIM's spicy scent. The object grazed her cheekbones, her lips, and was brushed playfully over her nose. That was when she recognized it: A rose. The sweetness took her by complete surprise—not the sweet fragrance but the hint of romance in the gesture, the fact that he had taken the time and the forethought to plan this for her. She immediately dismissed the sentimental notion and reminded herself that whatever they did together within the confines of the bedroom, this man was not her ally. They were not friends. Not even close. It was a sobering thought. Oh yes, he was charming. But like an exotic snake with enticing jeweled scales and piercing eyes, he was—for all of his seductive beauty—dangerous. Perhaps, after all, that was why this was all so exciting. But Shepard decided that now was not the time to unravel the mystery of just what made him so attractive to her. Not now. But the question would need to be considered carefully-and soon.

Rose petals fluttered across her naked body like sweetly scented raindrops, interrupting her thoughts. They were followed by the scorching press of his lips on her skin. He kissed her neck, lingering on the spot just a couple of inches below her right ear, sucking and nibbling, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from her.

"Warm enough, Kathryn?," he asked her, the heat of his breath tickling her neck.

"Yes," she answered, struggling to keep her voice steady but just managing to sound completely composed.

"Open your mouth," he commanded. His voice was warm, liquid—like honey. She hesitated. He continued to kiss her neck, sucking on her skin, one hand rubbing her stomach and rib cage. "Trust me," he urged.

Shepard parted her lips. "You'll have to do better than that, my dear," he scolded as he tweaked an erect nipple. "Wider."

The pinch elicited a soft gasp and it gave him just the opening that he wanted. He gently slipped something firm but not too large into her open mouth and just as quickly removed it.

"Not what you expected, is it?," he teased. He pinched her other nipple and bent his head down to her breasts, taking the left nipple in between his lips and sucking. He then moved his mouth over to the right one. "Maybe you'll indulge me later. But when you do take me in your mouth, I want to see those lovely green eyes of yours. There won't be any blindfold." Shepard couldn't suppress a little moan. TIM pressed the unknown object lightly to her lips. She ran her tongue over it, and again TIM slipped it inside her mouth, this time not taking it away but letting her taste and feel its texture.

It was a strawberry. She said the word softly.

Shepard smiled and bit into it, its juice sweet and tart in her mouth. TIM bent down and kissed her with an aching slowness, moaning into her mouth when he felt her arch toward him. She tasted sweet. TIM took another strawberry and parted her thighs with his hands, sliding the tip of the ripe crimson fruit over her clitoris, a light quick touch. She cried out. The contact was far too fleeting. It was exquisite torture for both of them. She was wet and eager and he was so hard that his pants were becoming both inconvenient and uncomfortable.

TIM took the strawberry away and planted a loud kiss on her abdomen. A moment later, she felt something soft and small winging across the plane of her stomach, dipping across her thighs, and then sliding over her sex. She recognized this one quickly. It was a feather. He teased her soft folds with its tip and traced rapid circles over and around her clit. Her hips moved in response and an overwhelming yearning for him almost made her beg him to fuck her. Almost. Commander Kathryn Shepard was a stubborn woman. She would not beg.

"Do you want me, Kathryn?," he asked her. He leaned closer, pressing his erection against her thigh. Even through his pants, she could feel him throbbing and pulsing.

"Yes." One word spoken in a throaty, pleading sigh. It shouldn't have made him want her so urgently.

TIM removed the blindfold and pulled her into his arms, pressing his body against hers. The sound of him pulling down his zipper was the happiest sound that she had heard all day. She practically cooed. His pants and underwear skidded across the floor. He pulled her upwards so that they were both standing, slammed her against the wall, and pushed inside her with a desperate grunt and one hard thrust. She was so wet. She moaned and sighed, wrapping one leg around his waist and bracing her body against the wall, part of her weight supported by him. They moved together in a steady, pulse-pounding rhythm. The sound of their bodies moving against one another mingled with her soft cries and his deeper groans. Suddenly, without warning, he pulled out of her and turned her around, pushing her forward toward the desk. She braced the forward fall with her hands, her palms touching the desk's hard surface. A data pad clanged as it hit the floor followed by the holo of Kaidan Alenko and an empty coffee mug. TIM plunged into her from behind, reaching around to rub in between her legs as he moved inside her. He thrust three more times and then felt her shudder and gasp, her entire body trembling. He came a moment later with a loud, grateful cry. His movements gradually subsided-but not until he had completely emptied himself inside her.

Almost tenderly, TIM lifted her and brought her to the bed, collapsing beside her. They lay together, not touching, catching their breath.

"You don't have be so far away," he told her. His voice swirled hypnotically like expensive velvet draperies across a parquet floor.

"I'm not so sure if post-coital cuddling with you is a good idea. Or something I could do in good conscience."

"You wound me, Shepard," he told her with mock anguish. "Now get over here before you make me feel cheap and dirty."

"You _**are**_ chea-," TIM cut her off by placing two elegant fingers lightly over her mouth. He removed them when he felt the corners of her lips tug into a smile that she failed to suppress.

He then slipped his arms around her, pressing his own lips to the soft curve of her neck, drawing her to himself. The feel of his body against hers was warm, comforting...intimate. She hadn't been held like this….in a very, very long time. Against her better judgment, she closed her eyes.

TIM found her to be an intoxicating woman, an unusual combination of sultry sweetness and formidable fire. She fit very snugly in his arms. He liked having her there—more than he would admit to himself. Because somewhere beneath the obtrusive titles of "Commander Shepard" and the "Illusive Man," there was merely a man and a woman and an unstoppable, magnetic attraction.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **B**ioware owns all. The next couple of updates may be a bit slower as I'll be traveling. I shall try to update at least once a week. Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate your feedback and support! :)**

When Shepard woke up, she was alone in her bed. She looked around her room. There was no trace of TIM, although the spicy cedar scent of his cologne still lingered. She got out of bed, stretched, and padded to the bathroom to take a shower. She took a long, self-reproachful look at herself in the mirror. Guilt flickered across her features. How could something that felt so good in the heat of the moment leave her feeling so remorseful and conflicted? Never again, she vowed silently. This had to end.

After she showered and once she was fully dressed, Shepard noticed that there was an encrypted message from TIM on her terminal. It read:

_Shepard,_

_I hope that you will understand that an urgent matter necessitated my rapid exit. You were sleeping so peacefully that it seemed a travesty to wake you. You are a remarkable woman, Kathryn, and I look forward to our next encounter._

_TIM_

Shepard watched the message disappear immediately after she read it. With a heavy sigh, she picked up Kaidan's holo. It had been neatly placed back on her desk in the same spot where it had been before crashing to the floor. A diagonal crack down the middle marred the image. Once Kaidan's face had been a comfort, but now when she looked at it, she was reminded of his accusatory expression and harsh words at Horizon. Hell, maybe she deserved it. What would he say if he knew how she had spent the last few hours? She took the holo, placed it face down in her desk drawer, and walked away.

* * *

"Continue with your report, Miranda," the Illusive Man said, leaning back in his chair.

"She spent the day at the Teltin facility on Pragia. She allowed Jack to blow it up. She did a thorough job of it, too. There's nothing left. The place is decimated. Shepard has been in her room ever since. She's been carefully going over Cerberus files—you know—whatever she has access to. "

"Who accompanied her to Pragia?," asked the Illusive Man.

"Jack and Garrus," answered Miranda promptly. She takes the turian with her everywhere. Acquiring him was a good idea. Puts her at ease."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing noteworthy—besides what we discussed earlier about Shepard activating that Geth unit. Aside from that, we're working on analyzing the IFF and getting it integrated with the Normandy's systems. We could be ready to pass through the relay in a mere matter of days."

"Let me know if there are any further developments."

Miranda nodded. "Of course, sir."

The Illusive man cut the communication and took a long drag from his cigarette. Since their last evening together, Shepard had been ignoring his personal messages. She would speak to him only in the Comm room and she was all business. Her steel composure both infuriated and intrigued him. Since their last encounter, she had thrown herself into her work, surprising him by increasing her workload and even investigating some Cerberus focused missions that he had not been sure that she would handle. She had cleaned up several messes and saved him a great deal of leg work. She continued to remind her crew that Cerberus was unethical and dangerous and that her alliance with them was only temporary. She had argued with him fiercely on several occasions. For a brief period, he was concerned that she was going to walk out after the mis-information that he fed her about the derelict Reaper. If the Reaper threat were not so dire, TIM was certain that she would have.

Now he would have the repercussions of Pragia to contend with—yet another black mark on the reputation of Cerberus. Commander Kathryn Shepard was no doubt outraged by the experiments performed at Teltin and even now she was scouring Cerberus records for more fuel to add to her anger. He had considered blocking her access to the files but he knew that there was some information that she needed. He had brought her back for her intelligence, her leadership, and her charismatic ability to rally people to her cause. He would not undermine her abilities by sabotaging her access to information she needed to excel at her job. He would manipulate her, certainly, as he saw fit—but only if absolutely necessary.

The Illusive Man knew that he was treading in dangerous territory with his relationship with the commander. It was meant to be a release from tension, from desire—from need. He would get her out of his system. From all perspectives, it had been a bad idea. He knew that. But he was drawn to her with an intensity that surprised even him. It should have dissipated by now, this desire for her. He was rarely mistaken but he had miscalculated where she was concerned—rather than feeling sated, he only wanted her more.

As the time drew near for Shepard and her crew to enter the relay, the Illusive Man had redoubled his efforts to outfit the ship with the very best upgrades and technology his resources could afford. He told himself that his vigilance was merely to safeguard Shepard as an asset. Her resurrection, after all, had cost him dearly. But he allowed himself to admit, in a small, neglected corner of his mind, that he wanted her to come out alive for reasons that had nothing to do with Reapers or credits or advancing his cause. It wasn't even for the pleasure that she brought him in bed. It was for something else entirely. It flickered in him, sometimes almost extinguishing completely, but never quite went dark. His calculator-soul was not a favorable place for such a light, and its barely visible glow would be forever threatened, always tenuous.

The Illusive Man wanted to see her again. Time was short. He sent a message to the private terminal in her quarters.

* * *

Shepard's eyes were tired and sore from spending so much time reading through the Cerberus archives. The screen was beginning to get blurry and she was getting ready to call it a night when a message from the Illusive Man hijacked her terminal.

_Kathryn,_

_The Normandy will be docking at Illium tomorrow for maintenance and supplies. There is a hotel called the Blue Grotto where I shall be staying. I would like you to join me. Room number 812.  
_

_TIM_

Shepard gritted her teeth and pulled the cord on her terminal. The screen did not go dark. Instead, TIM appeared, the camera zoomed in closer than usual showing him sipping on his regular glass of scotch, immaculately dressed, the first couple buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

"Electrical devices work better when they are connected to a power source, Shepard," he cautioned her with cool amusement.

"Really? Personal space works a lot better, too, when it isn't invaded by unwelcome guests," she answered.

TIM gave her a clearly suggestive once-over. "I can recall several times, Commander, when you didn't object to having your personal space invaded by me."

Shepard ignored the bait. "What do you want?," she asked. "I read your message. I'm afraid I won't have time to meet with you on Illium."

"That's very disappointing, Kathryn," he frowned. "What can I do to convince you?"

"You can't."

"You're upset about what you saw on Teltin," he told her.

"Upset? No. More like disgusted, appalled, and sickened. Inhumane biotic experiments on children? Kidnapping? Torture? It's a new low—even for Cerberus."

"I didn't know how severely things had degenerated at Teltin," he told her. "I agree with you that things got completely out of hand. The scientists went too far."

"I don't believe you. And even if you didn't know how extreme things had gotten, it doesn't excuse the purpose and intent of the facility. Those were innocent kids."

"If you read the files, Shepard, you saw that the children were rescued from a slaver colony. Yes, they were contained-but the hope was to improve the quality of their lives and augment our research on biotics in humans. Cerberus likes to give its scientists a wide berth. As I said, things got out of control. I had regular data reports on their research findings but I did not have full details on their methods. Until it was too late."

"I don't think you wanted to know. You've always been about doing whatever it takes. Don't ask; don't tell. You got your data and that's all you cared about. I don't think you've lost any sleep over what happened at that facility."

"I'm not a monster, Shepard. You don't know the things I've seen. It is a survival of the fittest world that we live in. Humanity is drowning. Compassion is a luxury that I cannot always afford." He leaned toward the camera. "Maybe we can change that. But for now—yes—I'll do almost anything it takes to ensure that we survive."

"Look, I'm tired. These arguments are old. I know what I know. You are not going to change my opinion of Cerberus—or you."

"Come to Illium tomorrow, Kathryn. It might be the last opportunity we get to see one another face to face. I think that despite everything you say to the contrary, there is a part of you that wants to. One more night. You're not going to save anybody by your abstinence."

"Maybe not. But maybe I'll salvage some shred of integrity." She shook her head sadly. "Probably too late for that."

"I didn't realize that sleeping with me so completely compromises your moral character. It doesn't change who you are. We have an attraction. You're still you. I'm still me. Do you really find me so despicable?"

There was a long pause. "Yes. But I also find your conviction admirable—even though it's wholly misguided. You are an intelligent man; I've turned it over in my head a multitude of times….what you could have accomplished for humanity in a positive way—if you weren't so….morally misshapen. I don't have any naïve illusions that underneath it all lies a good man. I know what you are."

"Maybe you don't. Get some rest. Come to Illium tomorrow. Just one more time. Goodnight, Commander."

The screen went dark.

Shepard brushed her teeth and crawled into bed.

"One more time," she repeated softly as her head hit the pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Bioware owns all. Thanks for reading. Stay tuned.**

Nos Astra stretched before Shepard with its dizzying myriad of multicolored lights. What Garrus had said about the city was true—it was as dangerous as gritty Omega. Corruption and greed lurked underneath the shiny brilliance of gleaming chrome towers , exotic shops, and posh nightclubs. The cab veered into a quieter section of the city where the buildings were more widely spaced but still just as opulent as the more crowded central hub.

The Blue Grotto was a moderate sized building of polished white marble etched with shiny blue Greek style lettering. A fountain out front was surrounded by a circle of statues, in clear homage to the twelve Greek gods and goddesses of classical mythology. This hotel was clearly an establishment that catered to humans—wealthy ones. The brilliance of the lobby's pristine ivory floor was complemented by the lapus-lazuli blue of a central carpet. Faux windows gave the illusion of looking out at verdant gardens lush with flowers and birds, illuminated by an artificial lighting that evoked the dappled glow of Earth's sun. Shepard did her best to look casual but it was difficult not to gawk.

The Illusive man stood tall and still by one of the windows dressed in his usual black suit, without a tie, his crisp white shirt partially unbuttoned. He was in his element and had an aura of complete ease as he walked gracefully over to Shepard.

"I figured I'd be a gentleman and escort you upstairs myself," he told her smoothly. "I'm glad you made it, Kathryn. This way." His hand barely grazed her arm as he directed her toward the elevator. He made sure she went in ahead of him and placed a hand lightly on the small of her back as she stepped inside the elevator. They were the only two inside.

As the doors closed, Shepard looked up at him and said very matter-of-factly, "You had me followed."

He nodded. "Yes. I hope you didn't find it intrusive. The resurrected Commander Shepard is a bit of a celebrity. I wanted to make sure that the paparazzi were kept at bay. It was a last minute precaution. I would have told you otherwise."

"You know—Illium is famous for the thoroughness of its surveillance activities. This might not have been the wisest location to arrange a meeting."

"I assure you, Kathryn, my privacy—and yours—is completely intact. Additionally, having you followed allowed me the opportunity to save you the trouble of finding the room."

"Oh, I think I would have managed just fine," she answered wryly.

"I see. You're not a stranger to meeting men at hotels."

"You're the third one I've met today. I have to say though—you're definitely the best dressed. This hotel is a trifle shabby, though," she added with a touch of irony.

He smirked. "I'll just have to find some other way to captivate your attention and to make myself more noteworthy than my competitors."

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. The Illusive Man rested his palm against her back as they walked and led her down the hallway to room 812. He passed his hand over the scanner and opened the door for her after the click.

They entered a sitting room with an L shaped couch and a television that took up the entire left wall. On the far wall there was another "window" like the ones downstairs, giving the room an airy feel. The light blue curtains stirred; somehow the window had been engineered to simulate a soft breeze. It looked out onto a virtual garden, the centerpiece of which was a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. Its "scent" wafted lightly through the room. On the right side was a small bar with a shiny granite countertop and two shelves filled with bottles and glasses. She glimpsed a hallway that must lead to the bathroom—and the bedroom.

"This is….rather amazing," Shepard said. She had grown up on starships and spent most of her life in space. Even simulated nature had its appeal. "It's also preposterously ostentatious," she added.

The Illusive Man shrugged. "The Holiday Inn was booked. Would you like to see the bedroom?"

"No," she said—almost too quickly.

A smile tugged at the corners of the Illusive Man's mouth.

"You know—when you look at me with that smug expression, I really do want to pull out my pistol and shoot you," she told him fiercely.

"Would you like a drink?," he asked, ignoring her irritation.

"Yes—something strong. I don't care what." She sat down on the sofa.

The Illusive Man walked over to the bar and poured two glasses of scotch over ice. He handed one to her and sat down next to her. Shepard downed half of it and placed the glass on the coffee table.

"This isn't a game," she told him severely. Her tone was serious and her face reflected it.

He took a leisurely sip of his scotch and set his glass down next to hers. "No, it isn't," he agreed solemnly.

Shepard merely looked at him. She waited.

"It would be so much easier if it were," he began candidly. "A simple amusement would not have been enough for me to arrange this type of meeting and all the risks that it involves. I take my work seriously. I think you know that. I don't mix business with pleasure." He paused. "You are a terribly inconvenient exception." He reached a hand out to find one of hers, just brushing her fingertips with his own. "It would be so much easier if I didn't care about you."

"I find that difficult to believe. Beyond the fact that you can't be trusted, I don't even know your name."

He picked up his glass and took another sip of scotch. Placing it back on the coffee table, he looked at her squarely.

"It's Jack….Harper. Not that you'll find anything that connects me to it."

Shepard withdrew her hand. "I wasn't fishing for intel."

"I know. Forgive me. I've spent nearly a lifetime practicing the art of concealment. I've forgotten how to talk openly about myself—about my personal life."

"It's ironic, isn't it? You probably know everything there is to know about Kathryn Shepard. I know almost nothing about Jack Harper."

The Illusive Man didn't say anything. There was a noticeable silence.

"That was your cue, you know. Help me get to know the man behind the persona. Build trust. Feel free to jump in at any time, Jack," she teased lightly, hoping to cajole him into loosening up.

He closed his eyes when she said his name. Feeling too exposed, he stood up and walked toward the artificial window, his hands in his pockets. He looked out at the cherry blossom tree and gathered his thoughts. She was much more than a beautiful distraction and he knew it. It was simultaneously deeply enthralling and deeply troublesome. He felt her presence behind him even before her hand touched his shoulder. His body was too aware of her. He wondered if she felt the intensity of it, too.

"You can start with something small," she prompted encouragingly. "Your favorite color. A fond childhood memory. Your condiment of choice. Work with me."

There was another pause. "Red. Auburn, actually. Like your hair. Hearing a performance of Mozart concertos in Central Park for the first time when I was eight. My mother took me. Salsa. Hot."

"Central Park. You grew up in New York then?"

"Yes."

"Your first job?"

"Writing for a paper that no one read." He turned to face her. "Enough sharing?"

"Not even close. You've hardly told me anything."

"I won't lie to you. But I can't promise that I will be able to share everything with you that you want to know—right away."

"You don't trust me?"

"On the contrary, I trust you more than anyone else I know."

"Then why—"

He gripped her shoulders gently. "Because I know what you want to hear and I can't give it to you. You want a rationale for how I became the man that I am today. You want some explanation to mitigate the things I've done. I don't have one, Kathryn. Not one that will satisfy you, anyway. And there are so many things that have influenced me. I can't break it down to one event. I can't make it nice and neat and easy. And the part that I you'll like to hear least is that I won't apologize for my choices or for Cerberus."

"You're right. In the best of all possible worlds, I'd love it if you could make me understand about Cerberus and why it's become the organization that it is and who you are really-underneath all the layers. Maybe while you're at it, you can make me understand why I detest many of the things that you've done and the ideals that you stand for-and yet here I am standing here with you when reason and logic and integrity tell me that I shouldn't be. There is nothing neat or clear about this for me either. I don't even know what 'this' is."

"Would you allow me to spend the evening proving to you that what I said earlier is true? I care about you, Kathryn."

"On your terms or mine?"

"On our terms. Maybe we can figure out together what 'this' is."

"I thought that we had established that this was just about sex." Shepard half hoped that he would reiterate that the only reason he wanted her there tonight was for another tryst between the sheets. It was clear and uncomplicated. Tawdry? Yes. But at least it was simple. She fidgeted uncomfortably when he stepped closer to her.

"Maybe we should just consider this a first date," he said, his voice low. "And take it from there, hmm?" His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment before his lips followed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Bioware owns all. Moving away from canon regarding TIM's background, although I did utilize some details from the comic "Evolution." More on the way; hopefully, the time between updates will be back to my weekly schedule. I will try! Thanks for reading.**

* * *

Compared to some of their past kisses, this one was tame. It was the soft and simple press of his lips against hers and yet she felt it everywhere. Shepard closed her eyes and tilted toward him. Her palms rested against his chest. The Illusive Man nuzzled her mouth with his own following with a very slow and sweet closed mouth kiss. For the first time, Shepard felt an undeniable connection to him that was more than physical. She pulled away.

"Have I made you uncomfortable, Kathryn?"

"No. And that's the problem. I should be uncomfortable But I'm not."

"You doubt my sincerity? I have no ulterior motive other than my feelings for you."

"You can't expect a declaration and a couple of kisses is going to warrant my trust. Your past actions haven't exactly put you on the top of my trustworthy list, Jack."

"I'll have to rectify that. But you're right; trust is something that needs to be built. I can understand why you doubt me. "

"You can't have something with me on the outside and then lie to me and my crew simply to achieve your own goals like you did with the Collector ship trap."

"You're right. I can't change what I've done; I can only move forward and change how I behave in the future."

"You're making this entirely too easy. Saying all of the right things…"

He cocked his head to one side and smiled at her. "Shall I say all the wrong things?" He reached out and touched her shoulder. "I'm glad you came tonight. I know you're unsure about me. You've been uncertain about this from the start—understandably so. But despite all that—here you are. Lucky for me. But I'm curious. Why _did _you come tonight?"

"The truth? I figured—what the hell? It doesn't look very promising that I'm going to come out of the Omega 4 Relay alive. I'm on borrowed time as it is. You have a knack for making me feel good." Shepard blushed and hated herself for it. "So I figured why not?"

"You're going to make it through the Relay, Shepard. And back again. Have no doubt about that."

"Oh, come on, Jack. You're a realist. Let's not have any illusions about my chances. It's called a suicide mission for a damned good reason."

"I think you underestimate your abilities. But as long as we're talking business, how are you doing, Kathryn? I mean—how are you really? Not the pleasantries that you tell your crew to keep morale up." He picked up his scotch and took a slow sip.

It wasn't a question she was used to being asked. The grand irony was that he was asking it, a man she had thought of as her enemy. She could think of someone else who should have asked her this but who hadn't. But that was a whole other story.

"I'm okay. I'd be a lot better if I felt like we had more leverage against the Collectors. So many variables. So many unknowns. But it's more of a shot than we've ever had. The team's ready. I'm ready."

"I wish that there were an easier way. I'm sorry that you have to do this."

"It's the only way. We both know it. I'm just glad I have the chance."

"I could go with you."

Shepard looked at him with unmasked surprise. "You would do that? You don't strike me as the type to get your hands dirty."

"Shepard, if I knew that I had the ability to stop the Collectors, I would do whatever it takes to do it. I assure you."

"I think that given our history—you'd be an awkward distraction. I think that we'd both be better served with you feeding me intel and using your extensive resources to help us get the job done. I appreciate the offer though."

"That's a pity," he told her, "You're missing a great opportunity to see how good I look in uniform."

The Illusive Man stepped closer to her, not so close that they were touching but close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body. "Speaking of distracting you, Commander…." he whispered against her ear. "I think we had a date. I'll tell you right now." He pulled her against him and glided his hands slowly down the length of her back. "I have intentions that are less than honorable."

"Really? You just might be able to coax me to engage your intentions, Jack. But there's still that very important matter of me wanting to get to know you better."

He sighed and released her reluctantly. "All right, my Kathryn. What would you like to know?"

"You told me that you grew up in New York and worked as a journalist. Then what?"

"Earth discovered the Mass relays and intergalactic space. Everything changed. I fought in the First Contact War. I got involved in politics. I saw a lot of unpleasant things. I witnessed firsthand how humanity was a pawn. The Council gave us token status, nothing more. As much as I love humanity, Shepard, I'll be the first to admit that we can be a shallow lot. The Council knows how to pacify people in power, distracting them with the status and riches that they crave. I started Cerberus to be a light in the proverbial darkness—to utilize cutting edge technology, breakthroughs in medicine, and scientific research to further the cause of humanity. To give us a chance so that we're not just floundering. "

"That's all you're going to tell me? I could have pieced that together. I was hoping for some insight. Some specifics."

"Kathryn, I've told you more tonight about myself tonight than I've told anyone in years. I'll tell you more. But when the time is right."

"That sounds like a cop-out. I didn't realize your past was on a need-to-know basis."

The Illusive Man paced as he spoke. "Time is short. Before we know it, you'll be heading for the Collector base. There are so few moments like these-for both of us. Can't we put our history aside and just enjoy our time together?"

Shepard put her hands up in mock surrender. "All right. For now. But if I do make it out of Omega 4 alive, expect a long chat."

"I hope to have several." He spoke with that characteristic smoothness. "Long chats."

"I am curious about one thing though. Your eyes. Implants?"

"I was exposed to a relic of sorts on Shanxi. It altered the appearance of my eyes. "

"A relic?," Shepard paused thoughtfully. "Something like the Beacon that I interacted with on Eden Prime? Was it Prothean?"

The Illusive Man looked away. "It wasn't Prothean, Shepard. It was likely a Reaper artifact. I didn't know what it was at the time. Other than changing the appearance of my eyes, it didn't have any other significant effects. It precipitated my interest in the Reapers, although I had no idea what I was dealing with. Unfortunately, I don't have any other illuminating information about it."

"And you never thought that this little tidbit might be useful to me? I'm putting my neck on the line and you're keeping important intel to yourself?"

"The trail is cold. There's nothing in this piece of my past that could help you. I want you to succeed. Even before I began to develop feelings for you, I wanted you to be successful in the Relay. I haven't withheld useful information."

"It certainly feels that way," she argued. "And this is exactly why we need to have this kind of conversation."

"This is exactly why we don't," he countered, pulling her against his body and looking into her eyes. "I don't want to fight with you. Not tonight."

Shepard looked him square in the face. "You give me one good reason why I should trust you," she said angrily.

"You're the reason." He touched the side of her face with the curve of his hand. "I never planned to tell you any of this. And I plan everything. Every decision, every breath, every little nuance…all meticulously calculated. But you. You're the one variable I didn't account for."

The intensity of his gaze made her look away. "All right," she said quietly. "You get a temporary reprieve. But you're not completely off the hook. I'll drop it…for now."

"Thank you." A feeling of intimacy hung in the air between them, foreign and palpable. It was the Illusive Man who broke the awkward silence. He cleared his throat. "Are you hungry, Kathryn?"

"Are we talking about food?," she asked him with a soft laugh.

"I was. But you can take it in whatever context you choose." He gave her a slow, sensuous smile. "Since I can't take you out, I thought I'd bring dinner and dancing here to you."

"Dancing? And here I thought you knew everything about me. I don't dance, Jack. I mean—I do. But only if I want to offend. And usually only after several drinks."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I have had the great fortune to see you dance."

"You have? Where?"

"Oh, I get around, Kathryn."

"So you've seen me dance and you still decided to make it a part of the evening's activities? You're crazier than I thought."

"I don't think so. I think it's more a case of you not having had the right partner in the past."

Shepard chuckled. "You'll learn the error of your ways soon enough."

The Illusive Man slid an arm around Shepard's waist from behind her and steered her into the bedroom, planting light kisses along her neck as they walked. The bedroom was an elaborate affair with a large four poster bed covered in a silky cream and pale blue coverlet at the center. The Illusive Man touched a button on the wall and the lights dimmed. Shepard looked up. Like the sunlight illusion of the windows, the bedroom ceiling was made to mimic a starlit sky, bathing the room in a soft blue and gold glow.

"Does this mean we're skipping dinner?," she asked him.

"No. This is just a detour. But I do hope to spend quite a bit of time in here with you. I simply wanted to show you the bedroom. And I wanted to give you an opportunity to change. I'm going to grab my things and get ready in the bathroom. You don't have to, of course, but I took the liberty of ordering you a dress. You'll find everything you need in the closet. And there are some cosmetics and perfumes on the vanity."

"You put a lot of thought into this," she said.

"I think about you more than I'd care to admit." He retrieved what looked like a tuxedo from the closet, paused to kiss her again, and sauntered out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Rated M. Sorry for the delay, dear readers. **

With the Illusive Man out of the room, Shepard had a few moments to gather her thoughts. She wanted to regret coming tonight but as her body still hummed from the way he had touched her, she knew that whatever the connection was between them, it was too strong to resist. _It's just physical_, she promised herself as she walked over to the closet and touched a button. _He doesn't have a bone in his body that is capable of genuine feeling. _They would spend the night together, finally ease the sexual tension between them, and get back to business. She would put this behind her and that would be the end of it.

The closet door glided open with barely a sound. A couple of his suits hung on one side, immaculately clean and neatly pressed. A black garment back hung on the other side next to several silky nightgowns and negligees. Shepard felt the instant warmth in her cheeks when she thought of him picking out such intimate garments for her.

She placed the garment bag on the bed and found the zipper that went along the edges. It opened easily. Inside was an amber colored dress with a square neckline and three quarter sleeves. The bodice would be fitted. The skirt part would flare out. The material was soft and shimmery but not metallic. It was a beautiful, rich amber—the color of autumn leaves. It was classic, the kind of dress that never went out of style with its simple elegance.

She dressed slowly but was unable to completely reach the zipper in the back and could only pull it up halfway. She'd let him do it. A white box at the bottom of the closet contained a pair of shoes, the same warm amber color as her dress but decorated with delicate tiny sequins that sparkled when they caught the light. The heels were thin but low enough that she would be comfortable in them. On the vanity Shepard found make-up and moisturizers, a perfume that smelled like exotic night jasmine, and two small combs decorated with golden topaz.

Shepard finished the last stroke of blush when she saw the Illusive Man's reflection behind her. He looked tall and sleek in his tuxedo. It suited him. As Shepard stood up and began to turn around, he gently stopped her before she could make a complete turn. She felt the flat of his palms against the bare skin of her back where the zipper wasn't closed. She shivered involuntarily. He didn't need to touch her that way to pull up her zipper but he'd wanted to and she welcomed it. There was a pointed stillness and for a moment neither of them breathed. She then felt the flutter of his fingertips through the fabric as he pulled the zipper up. He slipped his hands around her waist and turned her to face him.

"You look beautiful, Kathryn." With one fluid motion, he offered her his arm and escorted her into the living room. He led her over to the couch, waited for her to sit down, and then sat next to her. He looked at her intently, his gaze unflinching.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" she asked.

"I'm going to tell you the things that you want to know. I think we should do this now."

Shepard eyed him warily. "Why the sudden change of heart? An hour ago you insisted on waiting."

"Because I just got word from EDI that the IFF is ready and you'll likely be going into the Relay tomorrow." He reached for her hand. "Because I want you to stay with me tonight and I want it to be with full knowledge of who I am. I want it to be on your terms."

"That's a tall order," she said softly.

"I don't do things halfway," he affirmed with resolution.

Before she could interrupt him again, he started:

"My name, as you know, is Jack Harper. I was a mercenary soldier at Shanxi during the First Contact War when we fought the Turians. Besides wanting to wipe out the colony, the Turians that we fought were looking for what I later learned was a Reaper artifact.

I was part of a ground team that ended up capturing Desolas Arterius, a Turian general. We discovered a cave that the Turians had begun to explore in their search for the artififact. It was there. " He paused and tilted his head to the side very slightly before continuing. "A friend and colleague of mine, Ben, made the mistake of touching it. It—changed him. And later, he was killed. My contact with the device was indirect but I lost consciousness for….days.

When I regained consciousness I was being held by the Turians. I had strange dreams and visions."

"What did you see?," Shepard whispered.

"Like your visions after you had contact with the Prothean device on Eden Prime, what I saw wasn't very clear. Death. Impending annihilation. Destruction. I knew that what I saw was a real threat of unimaginable magnitude. My eyes changed to what you see now. I could understand the language of the Turians and there was an ancient script that I could suddenly read. The artifact became a palpable thing. I could…feel it."

"Jack—" Shepard interrupted.

He ignored the interruption and continued on, not looking directly at her, "I later learned that Desolas was using the artifact to create an army of 'enhanced' or augmented Turians. He called them 'meta-Turians. Ben had somehow been reanimated but he wasn't himself anymore. We chased Desolas but he managed to bring the artifact to Palaven. Finally, I was able to convince Desolas' brother how dangerous the device was and convinced him to help us stop Desolas."

The Illusive Man got up and poured himself a hasty glass of scotch. The ice cubes clinked against the glass as he returned to Shepard.

"Shepard," he leaned toward her and watched her expression. "His brother was Saren Aterius."

She looked back at him, unblinking and unreadable. He knew it was too late to turn back. He continued, looking at her but also looking past her as he remembered.

"We were able to stop Desolas. We destroyed the artifact. I told Saren to warn his people. Before the war with the Turians, when humanity had just discovered the Mass relays, the stars seemed friendly and full of possibility. Humanity didn't know what they had opened up. Races with technology, culture, and knowledge that far surpassed our own. A political hierarchy where humans were ostensibly accepted with open arms, while those in power had every intention of making sure we were kept shackled to our place at the bottom of the totem pole. What I experienced at Shanxi was the stuff of science-fiction and impossibility. I felt the extraordinariness of it all. But I felt the danger, too. Humanity's light was dim and flickering alongside species much more advanced than ours. Even without the Reaper threat, our position was precarious at best and in danger of extinction and subservience at worst. It would be a constant fight for survival. Our only hope was to gather all of the technology and resources that we could. Cerberus was a black ops section of System Alliance in its infancy. Our ties to the Alliance are still stronger than you know.

You attracted my attention and interest when you defeated Saren. Your visions and Dr. T'soni's research on the Reapers was invaluable. For most, the Reaper threat was dismissed as a myth. I knew that you were right about Saren being indoctrinated. I knew that the Reapers were coming and we had to stop it. After your accident during the Collector attack I was able to recover your body with the help of Liara T'soni. I knew that I had to bring you back no matter what the cost. And we succeeded."

"How? How did you bring me back?"

"You were brain dead, Kathryn." He spoke slowly and deliberately. He held back nothing. "You were brought back with implants and cybernetics. The top doctors and scientists were involved in the Lazarus project."

"I want to hear you say it," she said coldly. "You utilized a very specific and special technology, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"The advances that the scientists made were gleaned from studying Reaper technology. It's what made your resurrection possible."

Shepard sprung up from the sofa. The Illusive Man grabbed her arm before she could pull away. "What we told you was true. You were fitted with implants and cybernetics."

"Reaper implants," she fumed and struck at him. He grabbed her hands.

"No. No, Kathryn. You were not implanted with any Reaper tech. I wouldn't allow it. The study of Reaper technologies and advances allowed the scientists to use the materials that were safe in the most effective way possible."

"What am I?," she asked. "What did you allow them to do to me?"

He saw the fear in her eyes and felt her pain in his own body. Of course she was horrified. And he had caused it.

"You're human. You are just as you were before the attack—with a few extra bits and pieces."

"I need to get out of here. I want to go back to the Normandy."

"It's getting late. This is a lot to absorb. Stay the night. I'll sleep on the couch. I'll take you back first thing in the morning."

"Don't do me anymore favors." She stalked past him and grabbed her duffle bag as she approached the door.

"Kathryn, I'm sorry."

"So am I," she answered before she left the hotel room and closed the door behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Bioware owns all. Rated M.**

Shepard stepped out of the shower and slipped into black slacks and a white blouse that did not bear the Cerberus logo. She had stopped at the Citadel on her way back to the Normandy and picked up a couple of things. She had ignored any questions about her evening dress attire as she stalked to the elevator and then down the corridor to her quarters. She towel dried her hair and decided to let the air do the rest. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Using the hot water dispenser, she made herself a cup of tea and settled down at her terminal. It was time to forget all about Jack Harper and focus on the mission at hand—which was of prime importance. This mental focus was something that she was good at. She often had to push personal issues aside when it came to work and duty. This was no exception; in fact, she welcomed the process of completely absorbing herself in her work. Although the IFF was ready, it would be another 48 hours minimum before they would set out for the relay. It wasn't worth rushing in if they weren't absolutely ready. But time was of the essence and she knew, too, that she would not have the luxury of waiting too long. Since expediency was so important, Shepard delegated tasks to crew members that weren't needed on board for the running of the ship, herself included, first thing the following morning. She hoped that perhaps they could get ahead of schedule and launch the mission as soon as possible.

* * *

The hotel room, that had once seemed decadently romantic, now reverberated with an emptiness that was punctuated by Shepard's absence. Even the heady oblivion of alcohol wasn't enough to get her out of his head. The Illusive Man hadn't expected it to. He drank to keep the dreams at bay. But tonight they would not obey.

Tonight he dreamt.

"_They want to try another course of treatments, Jack. It's a 10 percent success rate." Jack's mother looked away before her next words. "Or they could just let nature run its course. You know….keep me as comfortable as possible. Honey, I'm not sure if I want to—if I can—"_

_She was asking her son's permission to die. In his eighteen years, she certainly hadn't asked much of him but she'd given him a hell of a lot. _

_His response was filled with the panicked hope of the desperate, "They're making tremendous strides…."_

_Jack's mother nodded. He didn't have to say anything else. "Yes, yes." She squeezed his hand. "There's always hope."_

_Not always. The cancer couldn't be contained. She lasted longer than the doctors expected but it was ten months of drugs and pain, hospital visits and tubes. Short periods of success followed relapse after relapse. Every time he thought he was ready to give in and let her go—he couldn't do it. At the end, when she was a fragment of the woman that he had known, he wished that he had made another choice. The regret and self-reproach that followed coiled around his heart and squeezed, wringing out his ability to feel until something brittle and hollow remained._

_And then the great irony that only three months after her burial the floodgates of knowledge and technology opened up and a cure would have been almost certain. When Shanxi was offered, Jack went without hesitation. Most of the mercenaries who went to Shanxi went there for the generous promise of credits. For Jack Harper the very things that made most people steer clear of the conflict were what attracted him to the offer. Its deadly dangers were exactly what he wanted. _

The dream came, as dreams do, in disjointed pieces. When he woke up, Jack remembered little of it. Only traces of images remained, like echoes where the words cannot be distinguished-wilted daffodils in a cracked vase, shockingly yellow amidst the monochrome pallor of the hospital room. What was most memorable from his dream was the feeling that accompanied it, the choking heaviness of regret. It was an alien feeling; he'd given regret up long, long ago. Jack pushed it down, dressed himself in the most expensive suit that he had brought to the hotel, and went back to work. In that aspect he and Kathryn Shepard were not very different. Single-minded and goal focused when he had a purpose, he would concentrate now only on what was essential and relinquish what wasn't.

What was essential was getting Shepard and her crew through the Omega 4 Relay and Jack would do everything in his power to make it happen. Back at his central base of operations, the Illusive Man received an urgent incoming call from Shepard. The ship crew had been abducted by the Collectors and only Joker was safe—with the help of EDI. Shepard and her team were not on the Normandy at the time; they were all unharmed.

"We're going in immediately," Shepard told the Illusive Man. "We're going to try to keep a communication link with you but there's no guarantee that we'll be able to maintain the connection. Any essential information you want to share before we pass through the Relay?"

"You're ready for this, Commander. I have every confidence in your success. I know that we don't always see eye to eye but know that I appreciate everything that you've done. You're an asset to humanity."

"Good to hear I was worth the effort and expense." Shepard paused. "It's always a plus to get a return on your investment. " She regretted the bitterness of her words immediately. Not because she didn't mean them but it wasn't the time and it wasn't professional. Up until then she had managed to be perfectly civil since their recent parting.

Her meaning was clear to him, that he viewed her as nothing more than a business transaction to further his goals.

He answered her in the only way that he could. "Please be careful in there, Commander. I don't want to lose you."

Shepard merely nodded and closed the link.

With a motion so subtle that it was almost indiscernible, Jack Harper reached toward her disappearing hologram and wished that things had been different.


	9. Chapter 9

**Bioware owns all. Rated M.**

* * *

"We've lost the signal to Shepard," Miranda told the Illusive Man through a haze of static. "Shepard got the crew out and they made it back to the Normandy. The rest of us are split up into two teams. We're holding position while Shepard's team is infiltrating further into the base. Signal went out ten minutes ago. EDI's on it."

"I want a report as soon as the link is back up. I can't get her either," the Illusive Man replied impatiently, knowing that at this point he couldn't do much more than wait.

* * *

Kathryn Shepard had a splitting headache. She'd fractured her left wrist, sprained her right ankle, and there didn't seem to be a single part on the rest of her body that didn't hurt. She'd keep all the other pain if she could just get rid of the insistent throbbing in her head. It didn't matter though. Sure, she felt as if she'd been put through a blender—but her crew was alive. The human Reaper had been destroyed. And she could finally get off of this base.

"Joker," she said into her omni-tool, "Are you up and running?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, prepare for pickup…and get ready for some fireworks."

"Aye, aye,"ma'am."

Shepard pinged the Illusive Man one more time. This time around, the signal went through.

"Shepard, what's your status?" he asked her, as his hologram appeared.

"Mission accomplished. Casualties zero; crew and team injuries seem minor."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah….yeah, I'm fine. Eager to get the hell out of Dodge. I'm setting up the nuke." She bent over the bomb as she spoke.

"Shepard, wait….I have a better idea. A timed radioactive wave blast would destroy the remaining Collectors but keep the technology intact. We could use the Reaper technology to study them, find their weakness, and exploit it. It could give us leverage against the Reapers."

"Negative. It's too dangerous. You know what this stuff is capable of. It's too risky. We have no way to study it safely. Besides the risk, this base is an abomination. I'll find a way to stop the Reapers but I won't compromise the soul of humanity to do it."

He seemed poised to argue with her but he shook his head instead. "I'd prefer to find a way to utilize the technology. But you do make a valid point. Your caution is….admirable," he admitted reluctantly.

"I wasn't looking for your approval."

Shepard cut the connection and armed the nuke. She pinged Joker. "Pickup, now!" She broke into a run. "Move!" she told her team. They ran toward the exit. Shepard winced as the pain in her ankle screamed in protest.

"We've got company!" Grunt announced in his gruff voice, running backwards and firing a shot at a pursuing Collector.

Shepard half turned and fired a cryo blast. It would buy them precious little time.

"Shepard, you're going to have to jump," Thane warned when the Normandy was in sight. Shepard cringed and jumped, aiming her body as close as she could to the Normandy. It was a long jump, even without her injury it would have been a close call. Panic quickly set in as she reached out for something to grab onto and found only empty air. And suddenly memory brought her back to cold space, flailing like a fish out of water while she breathed in the last sip of oxygen left in her helmet. She hit the side of the Normandy hard against her rib cage, knocking the breath out of her and drawing her further into the flashback that was causing her to believe that she had no air. A strong pair of Turian arms grabbed her and pulled her up into the ship but reality wasn't registering.

The team was safe on the Normandy and the ship speeded toward the Relay.

"She's hyper-ventilating!" shouted Miranda. "Get her to Med-bay, quick."

Shepard kept trying to tell them that she couldn't breathe but her voice wasn't working. Why wouldn't anybody listen? She could only gasp. Her chest burned. She was drowning but there was no water. Dr. Chakwas was there suddenly and through her blurred vision, Shepard recognized the Normandy's medical bay.

"She's having a panic attack," Dr. Chakwas said calmly. "I'll take care of her. Everybody out," she barked. "You, stay," Dr. Chakwas ordered Samara. "Help me get her armor off."

Dr. Chakwas removed Shepard's helmet, which seemed to make her breathing even more quick and shallow. Shepard's olive green eyes were wide with fear, her pupils dilated. Her eyes darted around the room like a moth searching furtively for light.

Chakwas spoke to her very slowly and calmly. She took Shepard's hands and placed them against the doctor's own rib cage. "Listen to me, Shepard. Look at me. That's a good girl." Chakwas took in a deep slow breath so that Shepard could feel her rib cage expand. "There's plenty of air here, darling. You're not suffocating. Breathe with me." Chakwas continued to breathe in and out at regular intervals. Samara worked quickly on Shepard's armor.

"You're doing great, Shepard," Dr. Chakwas encouraged again.

"There's something…wrong…..I…..can't…..breathe."

"There's plenty of air, Commander, I promise."

"It burns."

"I think she cracked her ribs when she hit the side of the Normandy on the jump," Samara offered.

Chakwas nodded. "Shepard, keep breathing with me. In and out. Yes. Just like that. Very, very good."

Dr. Chakwas quickly prepared a sedative. She smoothed Shepard's hair. The gesture was kindly, maternal. "You're going to feel a quick prick on your right arm. You're going to go to sleep. I'm going to patch you up. All right, darling?"

Shepard gave a small nod. Within seconds the sedative took effect and her eyes closed.

"I've never seen Shepard anything but cool and calm," commented Samara.

"I think she was reliving her accident. I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like."

"Accident?" asked Samara.

"Of course, you wouldn't know," confided Dr. Chakwas. "Shepard survived a blast that sent her into open space. Unfortunately, the conditions that she experienced today were similar enough to that experience that it induced a panic attack. It's not surprising. Actually, I'm amazed at her resilience."

"She'll be all right?" Samara asked.

"Oh, yes, I expect so." Dr. Chakwas smiled. "If I know Shepard, she'll be just fine. I'll take care of her. You can go."

Samara nodded. "If you need anything further from me, just let me know." Samara turned her eyes toward Shepard. "Goddess watch over you."

* * *

An hour later, Miranda Lawson paid a visit to the med-bay.

"How is she?" she asked Dr. Chakwas.

"She's fine," answered the doctor. "Physically and mentally exhausted. Her injuries aren't terribly serious but she needs her rest."

"Of course. The Illusive Man would like to know when he might be able to speak with her."

"You can tell the Illusive Man, Ms. Lawson, that the commander will be able to speak with him when I discharge her from my care. You may also tell him that I have no estimated time frame. He will have to be patient." Dr. Chakwas' elegant British accent took on a clipped quality of finality.

"I'll relay the message." Miranda paused. "You know, Shepard has been a friend to me; I care about her."

"Forgive me, Ms. Lawson. And perhaps you do. But I do question the motives of your employer. And I won't have him interfering with her recovery. I'll let you know when I've released the commander."

"Thank you," Miranda answered as she left.

* * *

Miranda concluded her report to the Illusive Man, finishing with the message from Dr. Chakwas.

Jack merely smiled. "She's in good hands with Dr. Chakwas. I'd like to speak with Shepard in person, Miranda, once she's fully recovered. I'll board at the next fuel port. You can rest assured that I won't do anything to compromise the commander's well being."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Regrettably, I have no affiliation with Bioware or the creation of the Mass Effect Universe. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**

Shepard came to fifteen hours later. She felt no physical discomfort but she was disoriented and couldn't remember how she had gotten back in her room. The last memory that she had was a disjointed jumble of scattered pieces, running for the Normandy after the nuke had been activated. She sat up slowly, rubbing her face and blinking as her eyes began to regain their focus.

"Slowly, Shepard," Dr. Chakwas cautioned. The doctor had heard her patient stir and came to stand by the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel….fine. Groggy. Memory's a bit fuzzy."

"Well, Commander, you kicked some serious Collector ass today," Dr. Chakwas informed Shepard triumphantly in her lyrical British accent.

"The team and crew?"

"No casualties. I don't know how you pulled it off, you dear, dear girl." Dr. Chakwas leaned over Shepard and brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. "Thank you, Commander. For what you did today….thank you."

"I hardly did it alone, Doctor. We all did it. Unfortunately, I'm afraid victory celebrations are going to be short lived. We have an even bigger enemy out there. How long was I out for?"

Dr. Chakwas looked at her watch. "About fifteen hours. Your ribs will take a few days to heal completely. No strenuous activity. Ideally, I'd like to see you resting as much as possible. Ever had a panic attack before?"

"Panic attack? No." She sat up completely. "Wait. What?"

"Nothing to be overly concerned about. My theory is that you were reliving your accident. You also hit the back of your head. Do you remember that?"

"Vaguely. A piece of debris I think. Before we fought the Reaper."

"Considering all that you've been through, Commander, your resilience is nothing short of amazing."

Shepard sat up and gave a small stretch. "I'm starving," she admitted, acknowledging the sudden rumbling in her stomach.

"I'd say that's a good sign. I'll have something brought up for you."

"Thanks. I'm going to jump in the shower and get dressed. We have a lot to do."

"Indeed. Just take it slowly," Dr. Chakwas emphasized severely, " Doctor's orders."

Shepard nodded. "I'll be a model patient."

"Mmmm. Somehow I doubt that. By the way, you have a visitor."

"Oh?"

"The 'Illusionist' or whatever the hell he likes to be called. Damned silly if you ask me. Sensible people have names."

Shepard smirked. "He's _here_? As in physically here?"

"Yes. Attractive man, I'll give him that. But he doesn't look like the trustworthy sort."

"Wise assessment. He's not."

Shepard took her time in the shower, ignoring the three minute water conservation rule. It just felt too good—the warm rush of the water against her skin, the bubbly lather of soap and shampoo against her fingertips, and the soothing hum of the shower head. The water both invigorated and restored her, calming the ache of sore muscles and strained limbs. She dried off and got dressed at a leisurely pace, putting on a tailored black suit and slacks that she'd bought at the citadel. She wanted to look professional and by wearing clothing that did not bear the Cerberus logo, she would send a clear message that she meant business. Her hair had grown well past military regulations, falling past her shoulders, glossy and wavy. She twisted and pinned the long auburn strands into a neat twisted bun, which unintentionally accented her long neck and high cheekbones. She looked far more like a sleek Noverian businesswoman than military but it would have to do until she could get re-settled with the Alliance—where she belonged.

"EDI, tell the Illusive Man that I'll meet him in the comm room." She wasn't going to meet Jack Harper in her quarters. The game had changed and they would play by her rules. Not his.

"Hello, Jack," Shepard said as she entered the comm room and deposited herself unceremoniously into a chair, data pad in her hands. "Sit."

"I prefer standing but thank you, Kathryn."

She suppressed the knee jerk reaction to glare at him. He was starting in already with the sexual banter. She wasn't going to play.

"I'm sure you have an agenda and a purpose. You always do. So let's cut the crap and get right to it. What do you want?"

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, ignoring her question.

"I feel fine. How are you feeling?" she asked blandly.

"It's good to see you," he said simply and slowly, studying her face with a quiet intensity. He still gave off a peculiar aura that everything he did, even the smallest of movements, had an intention behind it. It was oddly unsettling and also strangely sensual in a manner that was so completely unique to him. Shepard held his gaze with an unwavering look of her own.

"You did a superb job with the mission. What you accomplished was nothing short of amazing. Mind if I smoke?"

"Whatever," she answered with an indifferent shrug of her shoulders. "I don't think you'll find an ashtray in here though."

He pulled a silver lighter and cigarette out of the pocket of his immaculately ironed plum suit and opened a drawer, removing a small marble ashtray.

"This ship has everything on it that I could possibly want," he drawled meaningfully as he lit his cigarette, puckered his lips around the tube and took a casual drag. "I still think that holding onto some of the technology from the base would have been a worthwhile risk but I respect and honor your choice, Shepard."

"Considering your fondness for this ship, you'll be happy to know that you're going to get it back. Give me a few days to tie up some loose ends and I'll be gone. We accomplished our goal; the Collector base is destroyed. Which means that our collaboration is over."

"Pity. I enjoyed collaborating with you, Kathryn," he rumbled. "That's actually the reason I'm here. To make you an offer. "Stay on the Normandy. I'll give you all the resources that you need. You've got an unshackled AI at your disposal and all of the technology and credits that you could possibly want. If we could bring down the Collector base together, let's take care of the Reapers. It's the next logical step."

"You can't be serious. It's going to take a lot more than Cerberus to bring the Reapers down and you know it. There are some things that credits and influence can't buy, Jack. Even for you."

Jack tilted his head upwards and blew out a long puff of smoke. "I'm not naïve, Shepard. I know that we're going to have to build alliances. And that's exactly part of the reason that I need you. Help me change the face of Cerberus. We gather the right allies, utilize Cerberus' technological, scientific, and monetary resources and we find a way to stop the Reapers. Of course, you could pass this up if you want to. Go back to the Alliance, the red tape, the shoddy intel, and the stonewalling of the Council. Start from scratch against an already overwhelmingly powerful enemy."

"I am an Alliance soldier, Jack, and I always will be. That's not negotiable. I know exactly where my loyalties lie and where they'll remain. I understand your offer. But let me be perfectly clear." She stood up. "Our relationship, professional or otherwise, is over."

His expression was inscrutable. If her response had affected him in any way, he didn't show it. He merely nodded. "I guess I have my answer. I'm going to get out of your way, Shepard. The ship is still yours if you want it. Keep it as a memento."

"That's it?" Shepard asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything. I can be unselfish." He paused. "Occasionally. Be safe, Kathryn."

* * *

Shepard didn't have much time to consider the Illusive Man's motives when, only hours later, she received an urgent message from Admiral Hackett requesting her to embark on a classified mission to rescue one Dr. Amanda Kenson from a batarian outpost. She was able to successfully liberate Dr. Kenson who eagerly convinced Shepard to accompany her to Project Rho. Deep in the Bahak system, the scientists were studying a Reaper artifact. While analyzing and interacting with this piece of Reaper technology, the scientists began having visions about an imminent Reaper invasion. They realized that the Reapers planned to use the nearby Alpha relay as a portal to strike anywhere in the galaxy, leaving all systems highly vulnerable to Reaper invasion. The consequences would be devastating. The scientists knew that the Alpha relay had to be destroyed. The team working on the project had collected scrap engines and navigation technology and installed them into an asteroid that they would set on a collision course with the Alpha relay. Their data showed that the force of the explosion would be sizeable enough to destroy the relay, thus greatly hindering the Reapers' tactical advantage. The team worked quickly, using the asteroid as their base of operations while they prepared to carry out their plan.

Unfortunately, things began to get even more complicated. Shepard quickly discovered that Dr. Kenson and the other Project Rho scientists and technicians had been indoctrinated from their exposure to the Reaper artifact. Shepard was captured and held for two days, unconscious, while the team of indoctrinated scientists worked to assist the Reapers. When Shepard finally managed to escape captivity, there was no time to spare as the countdown for the Reapers' use of the Alpha relay was imminent. Shepard was able to set the detonation in motion but she couldn't warn the local batarian system to give them enough time to evacuate as the destruction of the relay would also damage the system itself.

Shepard only had minutes to spare as the countdown to the detonation ticked away rapidly.

"Come on, Joker. Where are you?" she asked desperately. "I hope you're nearby because if you're not, I'm going to be in a lot of little tiny atom-sized pieces very, very soon and this time something tells me that all the kings' horses and all of Cerberus' men won't be able to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again."

"Having trouble locking in on your exact location. Give me a second. I'm close though. Hang in there, Humpty-Dumpty."

"Glad you're finding this amusing, Joker," Shepard huffed sarcastically.

"Hey—you're the one quoting Shakespeare."

Shepard was about to yell at Joker that it was Mother-Goose but realized the utter absurdity of the situation and decided that she did not want to spend the last few moments of her existence teaching Joker about literature.

When she had decided that things could not possibly get any worse a hologram of Harbinger appeared out of nowhere, rather like the Cheshire cat, only without the smile.

"Shepard, you have become an annoyance," Harbinger intoned in his ominous voice. "You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you. A star system sacrificed. But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us."

"Maybe you're right." Shepard replied with a defiant toss of her head, " Maybe we can't win this. But we'll fight you regardless. Just like we did Sovereign. Just like I'm doing now. However _insignificant_ we might be, we _will fight_, we will sacrifice, and we will find a way. That's what humans do."

"Know this as you die in vain. Your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the Arrival." The hologram faded.

"Thanks for the pep talk, Harb," Shepard mumbled to herself as she felt the wind pick up.

Her omin-tool buzzed, "Commander, Normandy inbound for pickup."

"Roger that Joker," Shepard responded as she saw the first glint of the approaching ship.

* * *

"So uh, Commander—next time you decide to play demolition with a star system, count me out," Joker told her as he leaned all the way back in his chair and tucked his arms behind his head.

Shepard said nothing. She merely took the pilot's cap and pushed it down over his eyes.

"Watch the hair, Commander. Good thing the Illusive Man was able to give me your co-ordinates."

"What?"

"Yeah, you were MIA for over two days. Not cool. EDI was exhausting all of her resources to get an exact location. The Illusive Man had been looking for you, too. I don't know how he did it but he was able to give us your exact location. I hate to say it, Commander but—if he hadn't come through you would have been asteroid-fodder. So uh…where to?"

"The Citadel. Alliance Headquarters. Hackett wants to meet with me."

* * *

Several hours later a very weary Commander Kathryn Shepard was ushered into Admiral Hackett's office. The Admiral rose from his desk when she entered the room. There were two men beside him. One was Admiral Anderson.

The other was Jack Harper.

**Endnote: I didn't forget about this story! I've been temporarily side tracked by other projects. Thanks, as always, for following along. To my readers who have been there from the beginning, thanks for hanging in there. I appreciate the feedback. More to come.**


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer:** Bioware owns all. No copyright infringement intended.**

Shepard made her way toward the admiral with one swift movement and saluted him. "Admiral."

Admiral Hackett nodded. "It's good to see you in one piece, Commander. You know Admiral Anderson, of course. And you also know Jack Harper as well."

Shepard shook Anderson's hand and gave it a firm shake. She smiled. "Good to see you, Admiral." She nodded curtly at Jack. "Mr. Harper."

Jack let out a quiet rush of air. "Commander Shepard."

"Sit down, gentlemen," the Admiral made a gesture toward the chairs. "Commander," he added motioning toward a third chair. Jack pulled it out for her ever so slightly and Shepard gave him a look that would send a Krogan battlemaster running.

"I'm going to get right to the point," Hackett stated. "I read your report on Project Rho, Commander. Hell of a thing. As far as anybody else knows, the Bahak system had a collision with an unpredictable asteroid trajectory. End of story."

"I had no time to choose another course of action. I attempted to warn the batarians but—"

"Shepard, you don't have to explain. I read the report. You made a military decision, and, for the record- I think you made the right one. But if the batarians knew what happened, they'd be out for blood. It would be a damned witch hunt. With the threat of the Reapers, the Alliance just can't afford to take the heat. And you're too valuable to risk. What happened on that asteroid will remain highly classified. Which is partly where Harper comes in. "

"I'm certain I've missed a step," said Shepard with an icy glance in Jack's direction.

"Cerberus and the Alliance need one another, at least temporarily. Harper has some former affiliations with Alliance black ops units that don't need to be disclosed for the intents and purposes of this meeting."

"The Alliance—" Shepard interrupted.

"—doesn't approve of Cerberus," finished Hackett. "But just as you joined forces to stop the Collectors, we're going to work with them to obtain a common goal: destroying the Reapers. I feel partly responsible for what happened at Project Rho. Heck, Shepard, I sent you in there. If it weren't for Jack, you never would have been found in time."

Shepard turned to Jack. "How did you get my co-ordinates so fast, Mr. Harper? Stealth tracking controls in the Normandy? Unshackled my ass. EDI—"

"—_is _an unshackled AI. But she's not omniscient. I wrote 2/3 of her programming and integrated much of the replica Normandy's computer systems. And yes, I was keeping an eye on you," he admitted frankly and with an unapologetic air that made Shepard want to punch him halfway across the room.

"Commander, Jack is one of the finest programmers and hackers I've ever seen. His prior role in Systems Alliance was in this area. We haven't had any affiliation since….for quite some time. When you didn't come back from Project Rho, Harper contacted me with some intel and a proposal."

Jack began to speak. "I have a rogue operative named Kai Leng who thinks that he can interface with Reaper technology ultimately to control the Reapers. Leng is misguided, likely indoctrinated, and very, very dangerous. We need to stop him. I don't think that it's possible to control the Reapers. But I do think that, if we can find a way to safely study Reaper technology, we have a chance of developing a virus that would wipe them out."

"Reaper code is much too advanced," interrupted Shepard. "It outstrips Geth intellectual capacity, technology, and systems framework by leaps and bounds. I'm sure that you're quite capable, Mr. Harper," Shepard continued in a withering tone that said entirely the opposite, "but we're talking about ancient sentient machines. Far beyond human capability to even begin to grasp—let alone to understand their systems well enough to write a virus. And how do you suggest we upload it without the Reapers' knowledge? Not to mention the fact that Reaper technology is highly dangerous, leads potentially to permanent indoctrination, and cannot be studied safely."

"I think it can, Shepard. Not everyone gets indoctrinated." He looked at her for a long moment. "You didn't. I didn't. I think that some people are immune. What we need to find out is what characteristic they share that makes them immune. " His voice softened a fraction, imperceptibly to anyone but Shepard. "For example, it's obvious that you and I share something. Some common trait that makes us immune. We just haven't figured out what it is yet."

"These are theories—," Shepard argued.

Anderson spoke up for the first time. He had been listening to the discussion in his quiet, intent way. "That's all we have right now, Shepard. Theories. Pieces of a puzzle that civilizations have been trying to piece together, probably even long before the Protheans."

"We have something else," added Hackett. "We've uncovered Prothean data on Mars that we have reason to believe could shed some light on a way to stop the Reapers. I want you and Harper to head to the archives to have a look. We have a team there. I'm sending Kaidan Alenko as well. I'll also send you the files on Lieutenant James Vega; I think he'll be another asset to your team. We'll prepare the Normandy for you with a crew in 48 hours. You can rendezvous there. Any questions, Commander?"

Shepard looked at Admiral Hackett incredulously. _Of course I have questions!_ "Actually, I do."

"Jack, Admiral Anderson," Hackett looked at each in turn. "You're dismissed."

* * *

When Shepard left Alliance Command two hours later, flashes of her one-on-one conversation with Hackett floated through her overloaded brain.

"_Admiral, we can't trust him."_

"_Of course we can't. But we need him and he needs us."_

"_And you think my staff and crew are going to be able to work with him? Cerberus? Kaidan Alenko…"_

"_The Major has been fully debriefed. He understands what we're up against. He'll work with Jack."_

"_Major?"_

"_Yes. He was promoted a couple of months ago. Look, Shepard, you trusted Cerberus enough to stand alongside them to fight the Collectors."_

"_Yes, and constantly slept with one eye open."_

"_This won't be much different."_

"_He wants something."_

"_Probably. Shepard, you can handle this. You're the only one I'd want to handle this. You have your orders, Commander. Get it done. Just like you always have."_

"_Yes, sir."_

Shepard absentmindedly kicked a tin can as she walked. How had things become so complicated? Aside from the fact that she was facing a seemingly unstoppable enemy, she was going to be faced with the daunting task of working alongside Kaidan Alenko-who had pretty much labeled her a traitor and told her to fuck off. But that wasn't enough. The universe really had it in for her. Now Jack Harper was being added into the mix.

And she'd slept with both of them. Kaidan once. Jack twice.

She'd loved Kaidan. Once.

She had never loved Jack. What she felt for Jack was an incomprehensible concoction of lust, fury, frustration, distrust, and pure, unadulterated desire. To her, Jack was like an erotic equivalent of what heroin would be to an addict. Highly addictive and irresistible. Capable of sending her senses into overdrive. But afterwards she had always been plagued by guilt and regret. And when she'd almost had the very beginning of an actual connection to him, the possibility had been promptly shattered by the fact that he'd concealed information about how Cerberus had "rebuilt" her. He'd screwed her (literally and figuratively) and he'd lied to her. He was also a terrorist and probably a sociopath. The man didn't appear to have a conscience. Half the time Shepard wondered if he was really human, even in spite of his pro-human rhetoric. To say the least, Jack Harper was not exactly relationship material.

And yet…

_It's obvious that you and I share something_.

Shepard flattened the tin can underneath her foot with a metallic crunch and moved on. 48 hours to go. Shepard sighed. _May as well try to enjoy the calm before the storm. Because it's going to be one hell of a storm._

* * *

"All systems are go, Commander," Joker told Shepard as she stood behind his chair in the cockpit. "We just got flight clearance for Mars. But aside from all of that, what the heck is going on? The Illusive Man? _On board? As a member of the team?_ Seriously?"

"That's the big question, isn't it?" came an accusatory voice from behind her. Shepard braced herself and turned.

"Hello Kaidan."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Actually…It is. And you know why? Because I don't have to explain myself to you. We've already had that conversation. On Horizon." She stalked past him toward the cockpit exit and called over her shoulder to Joker, "Set a course for Mars."

Kaidan was right behind her on her heels. "Oh no…you're not walking away from this one, Shepard."

Shepard continued to walk—briskly. They were halfway to CIC when she finally spoke, her words accentuated by the staccato click of her boots. "Maybe I'm just taking a cue from you. You're the one who's an expert on walking away."

They entered the Comm room, which was empty. "Because I wouldn't blindly follow you? Two years, Kate, and not a word. And then when you _do_ magically reappear it's with Cerberus!"

"What part of coma don't you understand? I was a bundle of tubes and wires for most of my time there. I didn't come to until the facility was attacked."

Kaidan raked a hand through his hair. "Are you listening to yourself? How is that even medically possible? Aside from the trouble of reconfiguring neural impulses to your brain, how would you just suddenly spontaneously regain motor functions?"

"I don't know. The lab's a cinder. The research is lost. I don't fully understand what happened or how it all worked but all I know is—"

"And that doesn't bother you?" he yelled.

"Of course it does, Kaidan," she said softly, "Of course it does. But I don't have the time or luxury to have an existential crisis right now. Look, the Reapers are coming and we have to stop them. Hackett said that you'd been debriefed and that you were on board. You can either handle being on my team or you can't. You either trust me or you don't. But we can't let our personal history get in the way of this mission. "

"I can handle my assignment, Commander."

"Good."

"Fine." There was an awkward silence.

EDI's hologram appeared. "Commander, Mr. Harper and Lieutenant Vega are in CIC awaiting instructions."

"Thanks, EDI." Shepard told the AI. "Sure you're ready for this, Major?"

Kaidan squared his shoulders. "Yeah. I'm ready."

"Play nice," she warned him as she pushed open the door panel.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Bioware owns all; no copyright infringement is intended.**

Jack Harper was talking to Specialist Traynor when Kadan and Shepard entered the CIC.

"…I would never have even considered implementing a binary algorithm in that instance, Jack," Traynor commented excitedly, "it's bloody brilliant."

"Please don't tell Mr. Harper that he's brilliant," cautioned Shepard with a small smile. "His ego is inflated enough as it is."

Vega walked over when he saw Shepard and the others assembling. "These two still talking tech?" he asked. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"My sentiments exactly, Lieutenant. Unfortunately for us, we're out numbered three to two. Lieutenant Vega, this is Major Kaidan Alenko who also shares Mr. Harper and Specialist Traynor's enthusiasm for all things electronic. Major Alenko," she motioned her head toward Jack, "This is Jack Harper. He'll be assisting us with his knowledge of Reaper tech as well as spending some time in the field, as needed."

Jack extended his hand to Kaidan and was pointedly ignored while Kaidan glared at Shepard, "I highly doubt that Jack and I have anything in common," he said sourly.

Jack glanced at Shepard possessively before responding to Kaidan, "Oh, you might be surprised by our mutual interest, Major ."

"I'm afraid my interests don't extend to unethical experimentation on innocent people, subversive military tactics, twisted genetic research or—"

"Specialist Traynor," Shepard interrupted. She could see exactly where this was going. "Thanks for your help. Gentlemen, right this way." The trio followed her back into the comm room. Kaidan looked like he wanted to pull Jack's heart out of his chest and tear it up into tiny pieces. Jack merely looked amused while he smoothed out a wrinkle in his sleeve and continued to consider Kaidan appraisingly. Vega looked like he found the whole thing wildly entertaining, and the only thing that would make it better would be a bowl of popcorn and a shot of tequila.

"All right," Shepard sighed, "here's the deal. We're heading to Mars to recover Prothean data discs that could have information that could potentially help us find ways of weakening the Reapers. It's going to be a race as there is an ex-Cerberus operative named Kai Leng who is also trying to obtain the data. Jack, what can you tell us about Leng's operations at the facility?"

"I already forwarded what I know to EDI, Commander. You'll find full schematics and other useful intel."

"Thanks. So we get in, we get what we need, we get out," said Shepard.

"Can you even fire a gun, Harper?" asked Kaidan. "You might ruin your manicure," he added sarcastically.

"I'm sure that the commander will attest that I can handle a weapon quite competently," Jack countered nonchalantly.

"Jack will be fine, Kaidan."

"Sure, if you're comfortable having a terrorist watch your back."

"Enough!" Shepard barked. She spoke rapidly. "ETA two and a half hours. Meet me on the bridge at 1500 hours. Alenko, Vega….you're dismissed. Mr. Harper, please follow me. We're going to have a little chat."

Jack was only too happy to oblige. He followed Shepard to the elevator, matching her brisk pace. Once inside, she pushed a button and whirled to face him.

"So I tell you I'm not interested in joining forces with Cerberus to bring down the Reapers and you go behind my back to Hackett to insinuate yourself into my territory? I did what you asked; I took care of the Collector base—and risked my life and the lives of valuable allies to do it. I've lost relationships with people that I care about. I've compromised my morals and worked with an organization that I have no use for. All because of what was at stake." She pushed another button to keep the doors closed when the elevator stopped. "I don't want to play these games with you, Jack. What do you want from me?"

Jack leaned against the wall of the elevator and looked at her wistfully. "I want you. I thought it was obvious." He smiled and Shepard was taken aback by how much it softened his features. Shepard opened the elevator door and walked out into the corridor. Jack followed. She led him to a cubby sized room with a folding cot that emerged from the wall, a miniscule closet, and a single chair.

"These are your quarters. You'll be sharing a bathroom. I must admit I do get a rather fiendish sense of delight imagining you making do with this little room. I don't know what you think you are going to accomplish by working with me," Shepard said.

"Maybe I just want to help you. No strings. No games." He stood perfectly still and studied her quietly, hands in his pockets. "I'm not going to push you. I'm not going to seduce you. I'm not trying to get anything from you. I want to start over and give you a chance to get to know me on your terms. Friends….more than friends….I'm just glad to have a chance to be near you again."

Shepard closed her eyes and tipped her head back, sighing. This raw honesty was even more unnerving than his usual smugness. There was a long silence as she gathered her thoughts.

"We'll have to find you something suitable to wear," she said finally.

Jack unfolded the cot from the wall and sat down giving a couple of light bounces. The cot groaned in protest.

"This thing is awful. No pillow," he observed. "I think the floor would be more comfortable."

Shepard shrugged. "Then sleep on the floor, Jack."

He eyed the teeny weeny closet warily. "Closet is completely inadequate. My suits are going to be impossible to keep pressed."

"I wouldn't worry—you won't be wearing them much." Shepard realized what she'd just said and clarified, "What I meant was—armor doesn't wrinkle."

Jack lay back on the cot and folded his hands behind his head. Shepard could easily make out the contours of his body. She could still remember what he felt like pressed up against her, what his mouth felt like as it skimmed over the slope of her neck, and what his voice sounded like when he spoke quietly into her ear. His eyes were warm as he looked at her. She could see the invitation in them.

"Oh, I like your first idea better," Jack murmured.

"You said you weren't going to try to seduce me."

"I wasn't. You're the one who was imagining me out of my clothes."

She ignored him. "Stop making innuendos about the nature of our former relationship to Kaidan. I have enough to handle. And I'd hoped that you'd have a little more respect for me than that."

"I respect you. Him, on the other hand—"

"Don't even go there."

Jack sat up. "All right. I will be on my best behavior."

Shepard headed out the door. "The armory is on the bottom floor just off docking bay and requisitions. I'll tell them to expect you. Hurry it up. We don't have much time."

"Yes, ma'am," Jack rumbled as he admired the subtle, unintentional sway of her hips as she departed.

* * *

Other than meeting up with former friend and ally Liara T'soni, the mission, so far, had been fraught with difficulties. Shepard had sent Vega to cover the ship in case they needed to make a hasty get-away while Jack, Kaidan, Liara, and Shepard went after the data. The lieutenant was not pleased to be left on stand-by. When they had discovered that Kai Leng had indeed been trying to create what appeared to be super soldiers by augmenting fellow operatives with Reaper tech, this revelation had sparked an edgy bickering between Kaidan and Jack.

"Believe me, Major Alenko—if I'd wanted to augment my subordinates I would have done a much better job. This is sloppy work."

"This is typical Cerberus," yelled Kaidan, "experiments going haywire while you leave your messes for other people to clean up."

"This male bonding is making my little heart go pitter pat, gentlemen, but really—we have other concerns," Shepard reminded them icily.

A shadow appeared suddenly by the data console that they were approaching.

"Turn around and step away from the console," Shepard ordered firmly and trained her gun on the figure.

There was a quick flick of a wrist and the shadowy figure sprinted away; Shepard fired once, barely missing, but of course barely didn't cut it.

"Shepard! The data discs," warned Liara. As the figure was illuminated when closer to a light, it was obvious that it was a woman. "She has them!"

"After her," Shepard commanded as she began to pursue the woman—who seemed to move with super human speed.

They chased the woman to a landing pad. Jack had a clear shot. He aimed. The woman turned around. When Jack saw her face, Shepard heard him gasp and falter—it was less than a second. But it was enough for the woman to be able to get into her ship.

"Damnit!" shrieked Shepard, a note of desperation in her voice. "She's getting away! Vega," she said into her omni-tool, "Location?"

"I got this," answered Vega excitedly as he careened his shuttle into the enemy. Shepard and her team had to dive out of the way. There was the sound of roaring engines, a heavy thud, the scrape of metal, and then the force of a blast. It took Shepard a moment to regain her orientation but she had enough wherewithal to swear profusely at Vega for his recklessness. There was a distinctive clang of metal as the smoke began to clear. For a moment Shepard thought that she must have hit her head harder than she thought because what she saw didn't register. A robot was walking toward them, metal fists clenched. Shepard suddenly realized that it was the woman. The cybernetics that had made her appear human had burnt off in the blast. Shepard suddenly understood why she had been able to run for so long while they chased her without tiring.

The robot was fixated on Shepard, marching quickly toward her. Shepard reached for her gun and found it absent. It must have been knocked out of her hand from the force of the blast. She couldn't see Liara or Kaidan in the smoke. Only Jack was close. Like her, he was trying to get his bearings. The robot picked Shepard up as if she were a ragdoll and slammed the back of her body into the shuttle. She was at an odd angle so the robot's leverage wasn't quite right and the force wasn't as strong as it could have been. The metal face contorted with….anger? determination? The robot reached for Shepard again and Shepard knew that this time she wouldn't be so lucky. She braced herself for pain that never came.

With an unintelligible shout, Jack had stepped in between them just before the robot reached Shepard. The robot grabbed the front of his armor and slammed him repeatedly into the hard metal of the shuttle. Shepard heard a sickening crack of bones. In desperation, she searched for the glint of a metal gun on the ground and when she saw it, she grabbed it and fired, aiming for the mechanical creature's head. It took five shots before the robot released Jack and clattered to the ground.

"Jack!" Shepard screamed. Liara was there suddenly, visible now as the smoke cleared. She took his pulse. "He's alive…..but…."

Shepard said nothing as she picked him up and carried him to the shuttle.

* * *

"How's he doing? Can I see him?" Shepard asked Dr. Chakwas. They were standing just outside of med bay.

"His injuries are severe, Commander. He should probably be hospitalized but at this point I'm afraid to move him. I've done everything I can for him. Now we just watch and wait. You can sit with him if you'd like. Of course, he's not conscious."

Shepard nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Commander."

Jack Harper was lost is a mass of tubes, wires, and machinery. He was practically unrecognizable. Shepard shuddered and sat down next to him. She had to close her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she searched for his hand. Afraid that even a mere touch could hurt him, she simply brushed her fingertips against his.

"All right, Mr. Harper, you need to get better. I know you're much better at giving orders than at taking them but—please-make an exception this time. "

The room was quiet except for the hum and occasional beeping of machinery. This was such a different Jack lying here—alien and fragile. The Jack she knew was anything but. The Jack she knew was impeccable in his expensive suits, always knew just what to say, and could turn almost any argument to his advantage. He had always seemed indestructible, more icon than man. But as she sat listening to the steady hiss of the oxygen that maintained his life, she realized that Jack Harper was indeed very human after all. She lightly ran her fingertips over his salt and pepper hair. She had always quietly thought that it was an incredibly sexy feature.

"You should have something to say, you know," she admonished him, a subtle break in her voice. "I'll tell you what; you can have a section of my closet. I'll share so that you don't have to worry about being wrinkled." She smoothed one of the wrinkles out of the corner of his blanket. "Maybe I'll even throw in a pillow. You promised me a dance, remember? I was wearing an amber colored dress. I don't think I ever told you but you really do have excellent taste." she continued softly. "So get better and get back here so that I can take you up on that dance and trample on your toes."

Shepard stood up slowly. Even as she was leaving, she couldn't help but pause repeatedly to look at him, hoping for an improvement that her intellect knew wouldn't come.

Sometimes the heart lags behind.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Shepard closed the comm link to Hackett and turned to Liara with a thoughtful shake of her head.

"It looks like he's in agreement with you. He thinks we should go ahead with the plans we retrieved from Mars. He wants to build the Crucible."

"You're not so sure?"

"No, I'm not. We don't even know what this thing does, let alone how long it's going to take. It didn't work for the Protheans. Are these plans even complete? It's a lot of time and a lot of resources to expend for one colossal uncertainty."

Liara placed a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "I know you're frustrated. I know things look bleak. But, Shepard, we have to make a try for it. What other options do we have? We can't win this conventionally."

"I know. Additionally, Hackett wants Jack to continue working on figuring out Reaper code to try to create a virus that will weaken them. Jack's still unconscious. And we're not any closer to learning whether or not we can study the tech safely. On top of all that, I have to go to Palaven to rescue the turian primarch."

"We'll get it done, Shepard."

"Yeah, we'll get it done," Shepard sighed. "I'm going to go check on Jack."

When Shepard emerged from the elevator, she came face to face with Kaidan Alenko. With a data pad under one arm and tools in the other, he reminded her of the old days on the original Normandy when he'd tinker with the console outside of the mess for hours. That damned thing had been the bane of his existence, constantly jamming no matter how much maintenance it received. _Just like our relationship. The harder we try to fix it, the more broken it becomes._

"Hey, Shepard," he said softly. He didn't smile. There was a time when they both couldn't stop smiling at one another, hidden smiles that started in their eyes but never quite made it to their lips. But how aware they both had been. It seemed like a very long time ago.

"Kaidan." She continued walking. She wasn't trying to be rude; she just didn't want to get into anything. Not now.

"Hey," he said as he brushed a hand against her arm. "You got a minute?" His eyes, when they looked at her, were as soft as his voice.

"Sure. I was on my way to med bay to check in on Jack."

Kaidan stiffened and he felt his temporary calm begin to ebb away. _Jack. Not the 'Illusive Man.' Not even Harper. Just Jack. _Kaidan didn't even want to begin to contemplate just why that irritated him so much. But it did.

"Yeah….about _Jack,_" Kaidan put an unpleasant emphasis on his name. "Funny thing, Kate. Your friend had a clear shot of that _thing_ back there. But he blew it. He hesitated." Kaidan tilted his head to the side and rubbed his chin. "Why do you think that was?"

Something in his tone put Shepard on the defensive immediately. This was exactly why she had wanted to exchange a neutral greeting, acknowledge one another quickly, and then move on. "I don't know, Kaidan. But you obviously have a theory, so let's hear it."

"Let's not play games, Shepard. You're an intelligent woman. Or you used to be. What do you think?"

"Look, Major, stop answering a question with a question. You have a concern? Fine. Fucking say it," she snapped.

"I think it's pretty clear that his loyalties don't lie with us."

"That's your big insight? Take it up with Hackett. I'm _not _rehashing this with you." She began to walk away.

"I remember a time when you used to listen, when I could voice a genuine concern and you'd treat it with consideration. Now?" He expelled a breath of air. "Working so close to _Jack_ for so long—I think that ego of his really rubbed off on you. What else rubbed off on you, Commander?" Kaidan hadn't meant to say it. The implication and the anger came from some place deep within himself that he didn't even know existed until the words were out.

Shepard stopped. "For your information, I _did_ notice Jack's hesitation back there. I have had every intention of talking to him about what happened. At the moment, however, the man is fighting for his life. He also happened to save _my_ life so I'm willing to put any misgivings that I have on the shelf, at least until he has an opportunity to explain. I would do that for any member of my team. I don't think that's unreasonable. As for your juvenile little insinuation, I'm not going to dignify that with an explanation. And you know why? Because I don't owe you one. Anything else you'd care to discuss?" she flared.

The air between them was charged with mutual aggression—his jealousy, her defiance, their mutual hostility, all packaged inside a long and memorable history. It hovered between them. It crackled and smoked and trembled on the brink of bursting into flame.

And that's when Kaidan Alenko, usually so rational, so introspective, pushed her against the wall and kissed her. Her sharp intake of breath was motivated by surprise—not passion. A second later he felt her palms against his chest, pushing. Firmly but not roughly. Definitive. Unmistakable.

He swore under his breath as he pulled away and distanced himself from her. "How did we get here?" he whispered. "How? From where we started?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully.

It was the only thing they could agree on.

* * *

Less than a day later Shepard returned to the Normandy with Primarch Victus. That was the good news. The bad news was that, after the war summit, Victus would only assist Shepard with military support for the invasion of Earth if she could secure krogan support for Palavan. Quid pro quo.

"So that's where we are," she told Garrus Vakarian as they chatted in the main battery. She guzzled down her fourth cup of coffee while he sipped on a dextro-amino beverage that was equally stimulating. The pair of them were literally nearly bouncing off the walls, between the rush of adrenaline and the effects of the stimulants.

"You are so wired," he teased her as she paced back and forth, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. "Mission's over….why haven't we switched over to alcohol yet?"

Shepard smiled. It was good to have Garrus back. "Because I'd drink you under the table, Vakarian."

"Ha! Bring it on, Shepard." They both chuckled, enjoying the good-natured banter.

Shepard sighed. "You know, I wish I could—drink myself into oblivion. Just for a little while."

Garrus crossed his feet and leaned against the console, gazing steadily at her. "How are you _really_, Shepard? Not that non-commital 'Everything's fine' bullshit that you fed me earlier."

"Morale is bad," she admitted. "This thing with Cerberus….it's complicated. Would you ever think that we'd have the Illusive Man on board?"

"In the brig—yes. As an ally—hell no. But these are strange times."

"I feel a lot like you did after Sidonis. Black and white, I can handle. But I don't know what to do with all of this gray."

"Grab another box of crayons?" Garrus smirked. "Speaking of unexpected twists, rumor has it our enigmatic Mr. Harper saved your life."

"He did."

"And?" Garrus prompted. "Something you want to share about you two?" Shepard just looked at him, her face blank. She shrugged. "That's an infantile evasion, Shepard. This is the part where you should be telling me to go to hell for even suggesting such a thing." He waited for her denial.

She spoke after several beats. "I slept with him," she admitted. She had never had any secrets from Garrus. He was the best friend that she could confide anything to. And vice versa. They knew the best and the worst of each other, without judgments. She narrowed her eyes. "I didn't plan it—it just kind of happened. Why are you not looking surprised?"

"I've had my suspicions for a while. Little things I observed when you were working with Cerberus to stop the Collectors. Does Alenko know?"

"God—no. He hinted at something earlier but he was angry. Maybe on some level—I don't know. Kaidan and I have become serial adversaries these days. We're really good at hurting one another."

"And Jack—do you love him?"

"I don't know. How can you figure out how you feel about someone that you don't even begin to understand?"

"You can't. Which only leaves you with one option: Figure him out."

* * *

In med bay, Shepard sat next to Jack Harper. He had regained consciousness just after the war summit and Dr. Chakwas hadn't been able to reach her right away with a status update. His color was better than the previous day but he was pretty banged up.

"You are in no condition to get out of here, Mr. Harper," warned Dr. Chakwas vehemently. "I'll pump you so full of drugs that you'll be whistling the Alleluia chorus out of your ass, if that's what it takes to get you to be compliant. If you can talk some sense into him, Shepard, I would really appreciate it," she huffed and stalked away.

"You have such an interesting effect on people, Jack," Shepard teased him with amusement. "Good to see it's not just me."

"I'm lucid. I can walk. I'm getting out of here. Case closed."

"I'll tell you what. I'll strike a little deal with you. Dr. Chakwas would like to keep you another week. That's seven days. If you leave now, you go back to that little miniscule atom of a room that I showed you when you first arrived, where you have absolutely no closet space, no amenities, and no windows. But if you stay for five more days, I'll see to it that you have a larger room. With a sizeable closet. Besides the bed, it'll have a window and I'll see to it that you have a desk."

"Five days? I spent the better part of a year watching my mother waste away in a hospital with her cancer. I don't do hospitals. I prefer to take my chances; thank you very much."

Shepard hadn't known about his mother. She filed that little piece of information away. "This isn't a hospital," Shepard pointed out.

"I'm not going to argue semantics with you, Shepard."

"I'll throw in a pillow. Two pillows. Fluffy. Think about it, Jack," she cooed, "Pillows….closet space. A view."

"Three days," he grumbled.

"Four days," she countered, "and I'll personally escort you to your quarters."

"I hate you," he announced. "Fine. Four days."

Shepard bit back her smile. "Thank you," she said simply.

They gazed at one another. "You're all right?" he rumbled.

"I'm fine. We got the data that we needed." She explained about how they were going to build the Crucible and how Hackett wanted him to continue to find a way to study Reaper code. He interrupted her.

"There's something I have on my mind."

"Okay," she said.

"I'm sorry I didn't get that first shot off. That was my fault. That robot…."

"Cerberus was fooling around with artificial intelligence. I'm not surprised."

"Kai Leng made that thing to look like a woman named Dr. Eva Coré. I knew her. That story I told you at the hotel….about the meta turians and the Reaper artifact?"

"Yes."

"Eva Coré died on Palaven many, many years ago. She was instrumental in my survival. She was a friend. That thing took me by surprise. Seeing her—I faltered. I screwed up," he said angrily. Jack Harper was not a man who made mistakes and Shepard realized that he applied the same razor sharp scrutiny and high standards to himself as he did to other people—only magnified. "I don't know why Kai Leng chose that form for the robot but I intend to find out."

"Thank you for explaining that," Shepard said. "If you think of anything else that might help us solve the puzzle, let me know."

"Of course."

"In the meantime," she added as she stood up, "You get some rest. But before I go, I want you to know that I do realize that you probably saved my life back there. And I wanted to say thank you."

"Three days, Kathryn. And you're welcome."

Shepard leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Nice try. But it was four days that we agreed to, Mr. Harper."

Jack watched her go. And as sleep threatened to claim him once more, he reflected that in Kathryn Shepard—he had finally met his match.

* * *

Shepard was as good as her word. Dr. Chakwas was not amused that her patient had taken it upon himself to negotiate the terms of his release but she couldn't force him to stay. Nevertheless, his recovery was speedier than she had anticipated and she was pleased with his progress. She sent him off with a list of restricted activities and informed Shepard that she would let her know when Mr. Harper could fully resume his duties.

Jack stretched out on his new bed, a double bed nonetheless. Shepard had certainly upheld her part of the bargain. He watched her as she bent over to shuffle some things around in his closet and then leaned up to hang up the last of his suits.

"Too firm," he commented as he rolled over on the mattress.

Shepard turned. "Really? I like a firm one myself." Her suggestive tone was unmistakable. Kathryn Shepard was finally flirting with him and his body was too weak to do anything about it. The universe had a cruel sense of humor. Karma. He probably deserved it, he mused.

Jack scooted over and patted the space next to him. "In that case, why don't you try it out?"

It was an invitation but in typical Jack-style, it sounded more like a command. It was a challenge and she knew it. Without skipping a beat, Shepard sauntered over to the bed. She made a little show of fluffing up her pillow. How she managed to make such an innocent act erotic, he would never know, but she did. Without a word, she slid her body into bed next to him in one fluid motion and, not touching, they faced one another. The woman was full of surprises. She surprised him further by making the first move. She edged closer to him, placed a hand on his cheek, and kissed him on the mouth. Her soft, eager lips were wonderfully familiar. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned. He tilted his head as he slipped his hands into her hair, sliding his tongue inside her mouth, and kissed her urgently. She hummed with rapt appreciation. That one little sound inflamed him even more and Jack reached for her to pull her against his body. The attempted action caused a shooting pain in his ribcage and he gasped. He stopped his movements.

"Jack, are you all right?" In the space of a second, those beautiful green eyes went from lustful to concerned.

"I'm all right."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't realize."

He sighed. "I didn't realize either. It's okay."

"I shouldn't have started—" Shepard began to apologize again.

"Please don't apologize for trying to get me into bed." He gave another mournful sigh. "Your advances were duly appreciated."

Shepard smiled. "Tell you what? I'm going to let you get some rest before I get any more dangerous ideas."

"Oh, please get ideas." Very slowly, he leaned forward and gave her a light kiss. "We'll do this properly and thoroughly as soon as I'm recovered."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Jack."

He reached for her hand. "Try and stop me."


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

"It's an alloy of steel and a rare black metal that we were able to recover from Dregir. We'd like to acquire more of it but we can only do the mining by machines so it's incredibly expensive to obtain. It's light and provides excellent heat absorption. We'd like to try using it in a larger weapon but it may be _too_ light for that and we don't have enough quantities to try—yet," Jack explained.

Garrus turned the pistol over in his talons again, hefting its weight. "Impressive," he said with admiration.

Shepard took another sip of her glass of Pinot Noir and smiled to herself. "Keep that up, Jack, and you're going to have a friend for life."

"Garrus would certainly make a formidable ally."

"Now you're just flattering me." The two men chuckled amiably. The Normandy lounge was empty except for the three of them, not surprising since it was well past the middle of the night. The trio was celebrating the cure of the genophage and the promising news that the krogan would aid the Alliance in the battle for Earth. The heat of the wine trilled nicely through Shepard's body; the rich warmth and heady buzz was pleasantly relaxing. She allowed her eyes to linger on the brilliant white of Jack's shirt against his skin at the collar where the first couple of buttons were undone. His color was back and most of the bruises on his face had faded. He looked more like himself tonight. He watched her in between sips of his scotch, a small smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

Garrus drained the contents of his glass and stood up. "It's been a long day. I'm going to call it a night."

They watched the turian open the door and disappear down the corridor. When he was gone, Jack brushed his fingertips lightly against Shepard's knee.

"Jack—" she warned. But he leaned over and kissed her anyway. He never was one to follow orders. Brushing his tongue softly along hers, he could taste the wine that she had been drinking, dry with just a hint of sweetness from the black cherry and ripe plum flavors. He held her face, one palm against each cheek, thumbs caressing her jaw.

She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat before she pulled away. "Not here."

"Okay." He cocked is head to one side and gave her that cool, authoritative look that he was famous for. "Alternative location then." It wasn't a question.

"Someone's feeling better," Shepard mused.

"Mmmm…" He drew out the sound. "…much. Of course, I _will_ have to be on top."

"How vanilla," she lamented with a regretful smile. "Ten minutes. My quarters. I'll leave the door unlocked." She stood up.

"It's going to take longer than ten minutes, Kathryn." His smile was smug.

"Oh, very amusing. Cute, Jack. Real cute. You know what I meant. I'll _meet_ you in ten minutes."

A few rogue wisps of red hair had come loose from her otherwise orderly bun. He twisted a few strands around his fingers. "I'll give you five minutes."

"So impatient," she scolded.

"Such a tease," he growled. He slipped his hands around her waist.

"Five minutes," she amended, deftly removed his hands one by one, and walked toward the door.

She pushed the button to open it. "Don't start without me, Kathryn."

"Oh, Jack, I wouldn't dream of it."

Shepard hurried to her quarters. She brushed her teeth, removed the pins from her hair, ran a brush through it, and hastily shed her clothes. She slipped on an ice blue silk robe and unlocked her door. She did all of this with military speed and precision; she even wound up with about 35 seconds to spare. She was lounging on the bed when he came in. She lay on her stomach, knees bent behind her, legs crossed, feet up in the air, two hands propping up her chin.

Shepard gave Jack a casual once over. Except for the fading bruises, he could be on a billboard. The white shirt was perfectly pressed. The black trousers were tailored for an ideal fit. His shoes gleamed. He was the picture of poise, right down to the expensive gold Cassari wrist watch.

"Enjoying the view?"

"As a matter of fact….I am. I don't have any scotch but I do have a bottle of wine that I could open, if you'd like."

"No, thank you. Maybe later."

He sat down on the bed and she felt her stomach flutter. Her body gave a singular, involuntary shiver and she was almost certain that he had observed it, too. He skimmed a fingertip from the center of her shoulder blades down the length of her spine. Spreading out his palm, he began to caress her back through the silk of her robe.

"Tell me something. You were pretty certain that you didn't want to have anything to do with me before the attack. Why the change of heart? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"I don't know….seeing you get hurt….realizing that you did it for my sake….it opened up the possibility that maybe there is something there between us," she explained awkwardly, searching for the right words. "I was genuinely worried about you—and not just because you were a member of my team."

He stopped caressing her but simply rested his hand against the small of her back. "Would you say that—tonight-this is more than a booty call?" He wore the hint of a smile but the way his eyes held her gaze informed her that there was a serious subtext underneath the playfully phrased question.

"Yes," she admitted. Without preamble, Jack reached for her and tugged her forcibly against his him, turning her to face him. He ignored the protesting soreness in his muscles. This was what he had wanted. Kathryn Shepard. Not just her body but her heart, too. And tonight—he would have whatever she wished to give him of both. They kissed one another, a long and languid kiss that slowly tapered to smaller repeated ones. And it was in between these little kisses that Shepard asked him, "Why Jack? Why did you save me?"

"Reflex," he pondered. "Truthfully, I didn't think about it. Maybe you and I are simply inevitable and we should leave it at that for now, hmmm?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're letting me off the hook?"

"For the moment."

"Are you sure you're all right for this? Still hurting?" Jack could hear her arousal in the quick way in which she was breathing and he felt the echoing response in his own body. He pushed her onto her back and leaned over her.

"Only one part in particular." He glided his hands from her waist up to her rib cage and gently bit her neck. He nibbled and sucked along the sensitive skin of her throat and kissed his way to the spot just behind her earlobe. Taking her earlobe in between his lips, he sucked gently and smiled when she failed to suppress a whimper. Shepard ran her hands along the hard angles of his back and sighed impatiently at the fact that there were far too many clothes between them. She tugged on his shirt.

"Off," she demanded.

Jack removed his jacket and hastily unbuttoned his shirt. With casual grace, he tossed them both aside and didn't give a damn where they landed. Shepard sat up and rested on her knees at the edge of the bed while her lover bent down and removed his socks and shoes. When he stood back up, she was all over him, hands running up and down his chest, lips skimming hasty kisses along his abdomen. He groaned when she brushed her fingertips over his erection, pulled down his zipper, and circled her tongue around his navel. Pants and briefs were quickly tossed away until he was completely undressed—which was exactly how she wanted him.

"Satisfied?," he asked her with a grin.

"Not even close," she replied.

"We'll have to do something abou—"

She flicked her tongue along his length and he lost the ability for rational thought. Her eager ministrations were met with appreciative moans from her partner as he ran his fingers through the fragrant silk of her hair. The slowness with which she handled him was simultaneously delicious and excruciating and he finally gave her shoulders a gentle push. She removed her mouth and looked at him questioningly.

With a low growl, he pushed her down on the bed. "You're going to kill me, Kathryn Shepard."

She wound her arms around his neck. "Damn….my evil plan exposed."

Jack undid the sash of her robe and was quite pleased to find that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Watching her expression intently, he ran his fingertips over her stomach and across her inner thighs, carefully avoiding the spot where she was quite obviously wanting to be touched. She angled her hips toward him and he could feel the heat emanating from between her legs. Pushing her thighs apart, he stroked her clit with the pad of his thumb, enjoying the expression of bliss on her face. He captured her wrist and brought her hand downward. Leaning forward, he planted a single, warm kiss against her throat.

"I want to watch you come," he explained in a low voice as he replaced his fingers with hers. "Give me your eyes, Kathryn," he commanded when she had closed them. Pleasuring herself with him watching her with such unabashed, singular focus, it didn't take long before her pleasure built to its crescendo. His eyes never left her face. "That's it, Kathryn…..come for me." With a startled cry, she did-and he kissed her fiercely, muffling the sound.

"So beautiful," he said softly, his voice mellow with approval. Jack caressed the curve of her waist and traced a random pattern along the bone of her hip waiting patiently for her tremors to subside.

Shepard tugged him down until his body was flush with hers. "You're awfully good at giving orders but can you obey them? Come over here and get inside me," she ordered provocatively.

"I'll make an exception just this once," he relented. Shepard heard the uncharacteristic unsteadiness in his voice and knew that he was as deeply affected as she was. The slowness with which he entered her was the only slow thing about their lovemaking. They were both too far gone for finesse. She arched her back and met him thrust for thrust. He felt so good. She ran her hands along the contours of his back and came for the second time, calling his name and squeezing her inner muscles against him. Digging his knees into the bed, Jack gave one final, firm push and knew that it would be his last. He came hard and loud. After, he stayed inside of her until he knew the weight of his body would start to become uncomfortable and only then gently rolled off of her. It was Shepard, this time, who nestled her body against him and he wrapped an arm around her. She gave him a quick, light kiss—too sated and too tired to do anything but allow sleep to claim her as thoroughly as he had.

**Author's note: I have family visiting for a few weeks so updates may be slow for a bit. I will still strive for once a week but I can't promise.**


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